


Sneaky

by Miimaas



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AMC, BAMF, Cheeky little shit, F/M, Fanfiction, Graphic Violence, Guns, Knives, Miimaas, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not a Damsel In Distress, OC, Quiet oc, Realism, Slow Burn, Strong but silent type, Teamwork, partners, sneaky, traumatic past, twd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2020-09-22 03:30:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 193
Words: 380,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20312221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miimaas/pseuds/Miimaas
Summary: "That's Evelyn, but she prefers Eve." Dale spoke from behind us. "She doesn't say much. Maybe you'll get to hear her voice someday."Evelyn Rider's light step and silent disposition have served her well during these dangerous times, but the dead aren't the only ones who won't hear her coming.-Updates every MondayYou can also read this story on my website!http://www.miimaas.com/As well as Fanfiction.net and on Wattpadhttps://www.fanfiction.net/s/12270942/1/Sneakyhttps://www.wattpad.com/story/83259522-sneaky





	1. 1

“Has anybody seen, Eve?” Lori looked to no one in particular for and answer.

I tapped her on the shoulder and she whirled around, nearly smacking me in the face with her long dark brown locks.

“Jesus, you scared me.” Calming down with a hand on her chest, she gave me a mildly amused, tired look.

I smiled apologetically and awaited her reason for needing me.

“Will you go find Amy? She’s been gone for awhile now.”

Stiffening straight up, I saluted Lori as if she were a general issuing orders.

Chuckling, Lori shook her head at me and I stuffily marched for the forest; Refusing to let any giggles or head shakes make me break character, until I reached the treeline and sped up to a light jog to go fulfill my mother-given mission.

* * *

Silently trekking through the forest searching for sunshine blonde isn’t as easy as it sounds. Thankfully Amy's easy to spot at a distance. I’m still at odds on whether or not that’s a good thing.

It wasn't long before I found her picking what looks like mushrooms.

Coming up behind her, I tapped her on the shoulder and she hadn’t even turned halfway before her mouth opened. Foreseeing her scream, I lunged forward, clapping my hand over her mouth.

I smiled and she scowled at me. A look I’m not unaccustomed to receiving. Removing my hand, that scowl was replaced with a polite smile.

“Time to go back?”

I nodded and held my hand out to her. Accepting my hand, Amy pulled herself to her feet, bringing a red bucket of mushrooms with her.

A small glint in the trees caught my vision and my gaze fixed on it, trying to figure out what it was. It's moving, so it's alive…in a manner of speaking.

“Are you coming?” I glanced at Amy over my shoulder, shaking my head. I returned my narrowing eyes to my object of interest.

“Okay, well...see you back at camp.” I listened to leaves crunching as she made her way off.

As soon as the glint started moving, I walked towards it until I’d caught up and discovered it was humanoid.

A person? Walker’s more likely but I’ve never seen one up here before.

I crept closer, sliding a knife out of my leg strap. Keeping nimble and silent, I came up behind it.

When I saw the crossbow, I suppressed a sigh.

Relaxing, I lowered my knife and tapped the man’s shoulder.

Daryl swung around, crossbow first. I barely stopped the heavy weaponry with my hand before he hit me in the stomach with it.

He glowered at me and lowered his prized hunting instrument.

“How the Hell do ya do that?” his usual bitter tone never ceases to amaze. At least his volume is lower when hunting.

These Dixons…They’re both so loudmouthed. So much to say and so many colorful words to say it.

Movement over his shoulder caught my attention and a smile pulled across my lips.

“What're you smilin' at?”

Geez, is it a crime to smile?

I put my hand on his shoulder and he flinched but let me turn him around. I pointed through the trees to a deer, minding its own business less than 20 yards from us.

Raising his crossbow, he immediately snapped back into hunting mode and motioned for me to follow. I flipped my knife around in my hand and kept an eye out for other things while he focused on the deer.

I guess I’ll be joining him on this hunt.

It’s unusual for him to allow it though. Normally he doesn’t want me or anyone else to follow him. Something must be on his mind. Or maybe it’s just the fact Merle isn’t here.

* * *

I swear this deer could outrun a cheetah. We’ve been tracking it for hours. It’s already getting hard to see, it’s gonna be dark before long.

Daryl managed to get a bolt in it a while ago when we caught a break but it’s still going. It's gotta be losing blood so it shouldn't be this hard to catch. We’ll be lucky if we’re able to catch up to it by tomorrow.

I’ve been out here longer than I planned on. I was only supposed to find Amy.

I hope the others back at camp don’t try to look for me again. That was a disaster. I had to personally go find everyone who had gotten themselves lost trying to find me.

I still feel bad for Morales. How unlucky to you have to be to find Merle and Daryl instead of me? At least I showed up before Merle’s racial insults caused too much damage.

Honestly, sometimes I feel like a babysitter, or referee; defusing situations with a whistle before things go too far.

My jacket sleeve caught on a branch and I made the mistake of jerking it free. The twig whipped across my hand with a sharp snap. It didn’t hurt so much as scare me. Just one of those things that makes you flinch even if it doesn’t hurt.

Anyway, we’ve gotten more than a few squirrels who had the misfortune to scurry across our path, during this hunt.

An involuntary shiver wisped up my spine. I hate squirrel. It tastes like burnt cabbage and has the texture of tough stale jerky. Normally I wouldn’t mind that so much but the smell...

Great grave robberies. The first time I smelled this critter cooking, I almost threw up, but I still couldn’t keep my stomach contents choked down without coughing.

Daryl let a frustrated sigh slip as he stopped to look around at the surrounding forest instead of at the tracks for the first time in almost an hour.

I stopped next to him with a questioning glance and he rolled his shoulders back, stretching the stiff muscle. I’m no stranger to that focused hunch and the knots it creates around shoulder blades.

“Let's camp here tonight. Pick it back up in the mornin’” he pulled the improvised squirrel lanyard over his head, setting it on the ground next to a tree.

I nodded in agreement and looked up to the fading light from the sky.

The left over baby blue was becoming darker by the minute and the orange hue of the clouds faded to a darker grey, giving the clouds a silver lining.

It reminds me of that saying, ‘Find the silver lining’. That’s hard to do nowadays.

It almost looks stormy. I’m not a weather forecasting machine but it looks like there’s gonna be a storm soon. Hopefully it’ll blow over us.

Looking around, I began collecting small to largish sticks. After a few minutes, we had a small fire set up and Daryl was lighting it while I placed a ring of larger rocks around it to hide as much of the glow as possible.

I don’t think it’ll get too cold tonight so we don’t need a big fire, I’m more worried about how bright the light will be.

* * *

We sat in silence— well, he sat, I laid on the ground so I could entertain my hobby of watching the sky. The stars just started peeking out from behind the thin layer of clouds.

“Can you talk?”

Furrowing my brow, I looked up at Daryl —no doubt getting leaves mingled in my hair— and nodded.

“Why don't ya?”

I shrugged, fingering the locket around my neck.

“What'd you do?”

The space between his eyes scrunched together and I followed his line of sight to the Band-Aid on my wrist.

Oh, I thought he was talking about the cut on the back of my hand from earlier.

I pointed to the tree he was sitting against and watched him look over his shoulder before nodding. He returned his eyes to the faint glow of the small fire as it crackled grumpily.

This is why I like Daryl. He gets what I'm saying, even though I haven’t said it. Now that I think about it, neither of us really do much talking.

Obviously he speaks more than I do, but not much.

The most I speak is maybe once a month? Usually to give a one word answer, like my name, or how old I am. I've been this way for as long as I can remember.

It’s not like I’m mute, and it’s not that I don’t like talking, I’m just…quiet. I prefer not to speak.

Just don’t have a lot to say, I guess.

Although, Daryl’s brother speaks enough for all three of us. Merle’s mouth is like a train full of screaming children. That guy couldn’t shut up to save his life. Not that he’s ever or will ever try. “What're ya thinkin’ bout?”

I looked up again, for half a second I thought I’d gotten my hair in the fire but thankfully it was just a passing moment’s paranoia.

I blinked for several seconds, without an answer. I don't think I've ever seen him this interested in talking. Especially to me. I won’t exactly answer, he knows that.

Finally realizing I’d been staring, I pointed up at the stars. A small grunt was all the reply I got as he looked up.

It was silent for another few minutes before the fire crackled and Daryl grunted decisively.

“I’ll take watch. You should get some sleep”

I nodded and rolled onto my stomach, pulling a troublesome stick out of my back. I used the twig to draw in the dirt next to the fire. Even though it was only embers, it was enough to feel warmth on my face and provide enough light to vaguely see what I was doing.

* * *

I don’t know when I drifted off, but I woke up when something poked me.

Stubbornly groaning, I rolled onto my side, burying my nose in the crook of my elbow.

Another sharp jab and my eyelids flipped open, ready to throw Glenn the most life-threatening glare I’m capable of producing but my forming glare slacked into utter confusion as soon as they fixed on a dimly glinting knife.

It was Daryl’s knife and he was poking me in the shoulder with my dirt art stick.

“Yer turn to take watch”

Yawning, I sat up and cracked my neck, stretching my shoulders. Sleeping on the ground is never comfortable but I suppose once you get used to it, you can always adjust back.

We traded spots and slowly I became more and more aware, while Daryl became less. Almost like we’re trading some sort of ‘awake’ pass.

It didn’t take long for my attention to wander. I’ve never had a very good attention span.

I pulled one of my knives from it’s thigh sheath and mindlessly started carving abstract swirls and patterns into a stick.


	2. 2

Eventually the light of the sun began to brighten our surroundings and everything became much easier to see. This is another one of those trade off things I can’t quite decide on. It’s good, but also bad. The more it lights up, the easier I can see, but  _ we’re also _ easier to see.

I came  _ this  _ close to slicing my finger open during my carving, thankfully that didn’t happen but I accidentally snapped all my hard work in half.

Blowing air out my mouth, I chuckled and tossed the rest of it into a fire. It wasn’t that nice anyway.

I finally put out the fire, kicking dirt over it with my boots. Although it was never more than warm sticks to be honest.

A few twigs snapped here and there while I struggle to fight off boredom but it never panned out to be anything more dangerous than a woodchuck.

Some of these creatures are  _ very  _ lucky that it’s me keeping watch and not Daryl, or they wouldn’t be furry, they’d be curry.

Huh...I wonder if squirrel curry would make them taste better. Is squirrel curry even possible? Come to think of it...I don’t know anyone who knows how to make curry. Especially not now. Unless someone back at camp is keeping tasty little secrets.

Seriously though, out of everyone among us -including the few mother’s we’ve got back at camp- I can’t believe there’s no one with culinary skill.

Carol probably comes closest but maybe it’s just cause she’s a good mom.

_ “Ugmm” _

My knives raised in less than a second but were sliding back into my sheath a second later.

_ He’s up sooner than I expected. _ It’s only been a few hours. At most.

Either that or I’ve been completely zoning out, which isn’t good no matter how you look at it, but I doubt it because I did notice all the small insignificant noises that  _ could _ have been the end of our lives.

But alas, here we are about to begin our hunt for the elusive immortal deer once again.

Unfortunately, this time it’s on an empty stomach.

* * *

We've been tracking this deer for a good three hours into the daylight. I cannot for the life of me, figure out how it’s still going. Daryl’s shot it like three times and—

“ _ Ahhhh! _ ”

I looked at Daryl and he was already staring back.

Simultaneously, we broke into a run, towards the scream.

As we got closer, our pace slowed to where we wouldn’t be noticed, just in case.

It took a few minutes but we came around a mound of rock and unfortunately I didn’t notice Daryl shortstop until I walked into his back. My nose slamming into the back of his cinderblock of a skull.

_ Jesus— Mary and Joseph. What the Hell are you made of, rocks!? _

Grabbing my now throbbing nose, my cold fingers somewhat soothed the ache but nowhere near how much I would’ve liked.

Begrudgingly, I peeked around him. I’m not sure what I was expecting to see, but it wasn’t this.

I stared at most of the men from  _ our _ group, all of which looked quite startled. That's another look I'm accustomed to, but not usually when I’m accompanied by another person. Least of all a Dixon.

“Son of a bitch. That's  _ my  _ deer.” Daryl stomped closer, clearing my line of sight to see the cause of his sudden mood swing.

I rubbed my eyes incredulously, an exhausted sigh escaping my lips.

_ Damnit. I was looking forward to not having to eat squirrel. _

I followed Daryl over to the remains of what was supposed to be the pot of gold at the end of this rainbow.

Huffing, I blew my hair out of my face, before catching sight of someone I didn't recognize.

He's sort of got that same vibe as Shane. Almost the same look about him too.

The way he carries himself, how he’s looking around, even the way he stands is similar.  _ Weird _ ...

_ Deja vu? _

I didn't realize Daryl had been ranting until he started kicking the corpse of a decapitated walker I had failed to notice on the other side of the deer.

At least I hope that’s a walker. If not, we’re in deeper shit than I thought.

Seriously, we’re gone for what?  _ One _ day and they go off and get into the  _ worst  _ sort of trouble they can, without dying? What sort of logic is this?

“Calm down son, that's not helping.” Dale attempted to calm the enraged hunter. But frankly, I’m pretty pissed too. I came  _ this _ close to not having to hold my breath while I swallow my dinner whole.

“What do you know about it old man?”

_ Here we go _

“Why don’t you take that  _ stupid  _ hat and go back to  _ ‘On Golden Pond’ _ ”

I stopped listening after that. I’m more interested in the walker head on the ground. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t heard a Dixon go off at someone before. Honestly, I’m surprised Merle isn’t joining in.

_ Where is Merle? I don’t see him, and his  _ grating  _ voice is hard to miss. _

_ There’s no way he’d miss out on a walker in camp. _

Crouching down beside the head, I searched for the killing blow but I couldn't find anything. Reaching out, I poked it with my finger and it didn’t move, so they must’ve killed it.

Internal brain hemorrhage? I don’t know if walker’s are susceptible to that though.

They move but does the blood still circulate?

I poked it in the forehead again and the eyes opened.

Startled, I fell backwards onto my ass and accidentally kicked it away with my boot, making it spin as it rolled in the dirt. It didn’t go far but it was enough to make several others jump back.

“Come on, people. What the Hell?” Daryl raised his crossbow and put a bolt through its eye socket.

Stepping over the body and putting his shoe against the head, he pulled the bolt out with a gross ‘ _ slick’. _

For a second I expected him to wipe the blood off on his pants but I guess not even a hunter who will skin any kill with his bare hands, will get that nasty congealed slime on him.

“It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothin?”

He offered me his hand and I took him up on it, getting to my feet. I nodded gratefully, brushing the dirt off my ass.

“Next time don't touch it” Daryl scolded me. I nodded, glancing at the body with a little morbid curiosity. I still don’t get why I’m the only one who’s curious about ‘em.

It’s not a moral compass thing either, there are plenty of people in this group whose “compass” has a magnet stuck to the bottom. Assuming they haven’t lost the damn thing already.

Everyone began to leave, following Daryl and I turned, falling into step next to the new face.

He looked at me and I stared back at him.

“Rick” he held out his hand.

I shook his hand with a friendly smile. Something about this guy just screams  _ ‘I know what to do _ ’ if that makes sense.

Even though I’ve never met him before; he kinda reminds me of Glenn in that regard.

“That's Evelyn, but she prefers Eve.” Dale spoke from behind us.

“She doesn't say much. Maybe you'll get to hear her voice someday.”

I gave them a quick smile and moved to catch up with Shane and Daryl near the front.

I could use some water, I’m parched and if we’ve got something that  _ isn’t  _ squirrel that would be fantastic.

“Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here. Got us some squirrel. Let's stew 'em up.” Daryl called. I almost gagged at the mention of the furry little creatures. At least in stew they don’t taste  _ all  _ that terrible.

“Hey Daryl. Why don't you slow up a bit…” Shane called after him. “I need to talk to you.”

_ Ahhh,  _ shit spackle _ . We cannot catch a break. Would it have killed you to wait ‘till I’ve eaten something? _

“About what?” Daryl glanced at me as if I’d know what Shane’s talking about.

“About Merle.” Shane squared off his posture

_ Ugh, of course...what’s he done now? _

“There was a problem in Atlanta.”

My heart dropped into to my stomach, all desire for food fading to the furthest reaches of my mind.

Daryl stiffened and glanced around. I guess this answers why Merle wasn’t the first in line to take a whack at that walker.

"He dead?" Daryl shifted; preparing for the worst, no doubt.

"We’re not sure." Shane glanced to the side.

" _ Either he is or he ain't. _ " Daryl spat, impatiently.

"No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it." Rick walked past me towards Daryl.

"Who're you?" Daryl spoke spitefully.

"Rick Grimes" Rick stopped several feet from Daryl. Grimes? As in Lori and Carl Grimes?

" _ Rick Grimes _ …You got something you wanna  _ tell me _ ?" This isn’t gonna end well.

My stomach gurgled and for a moment, I had the urge to growl back. In most any other situation, I probably would have.

I walked over to Glenn and tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped, relaxing when he saw me. He pulled the small bag from his pocket and my lip quirked up for half a second as I took it from him.

"Your brother was a danger to us all. So I handcuffed him to a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal…He's still there." Rick informed rather bluntly.

_ Wait…what? _

_ They left him? _

Daryl paced quickly but he looks like he’s about to flip his lid.

"Let me process this.” he smacked his lips “You sayin' you handcuffed my brother to a roof… _ and you left him there _ !?" Daryl's rage escalated right alongside his voice.

"Yeah…" Rick drew out his response, looking down guiltily.

I opened the bag of cookies I asked Glenn for, looking at them.  _ Yes, they're still good. _

When I looked back up, I narrowly dodged the flying bunch of squirrels comin’ at me.

Shane knocked Daryl to the ground and it only gave the hunter the opportunity to pull his knife.

Daryl went for Rick, and Shane wasted no time in grabbing him. Rick and Shane moved like they were a team, without saying anything. Almost as if they’ve done this before.

What the Hell happened in the day we were gone?

I nudged Glenn with my elbow and pointed to them with a questioning look.

He nodded, "Rick and Shane are old friends. They were partners before." I nodded in understanding, with an ‘oh’ look.  _ That makes a lot more sense. _

"You best let me go!" Daryl yelled.

“Nah I think it’s better if I don’t” Shane got him to the ground in a choke hold and I stopped paying attention, as my stomach was demanding nutrition, on threat of digesting my liver.

I tuned back in as Shane actually let him go.

"What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others." Isn’t that the understatement of the year.

"It wasn't Rick's fault." T-Dog spoke up. "I had the key...I dropped it."

"Couldn't pick it up?" Daryl spat, still angry but he looks too worn out to really fight anymore.

I don’t blame him, neither of us have eaten or drunk anything since yesterday.

Why do  _ I  _ feel guilty? I wasn’t even on that run— Hell I only  _ vaguely  _ know what’s happened.

"Well I dropped it in a drain." T-Dog replied.

Daryl bitterly scoffed and tiredly got up.

"If that's supposed to make me feel better, it don’t." He threw a handful of dirt at T-Dog’s feet.

"Well maybe this will. Look I chained the door to the roof, so the geeks couldn't get at him. With a padlock." Dang. Not a lot of people can admit stuff like that. Kudos, T-Dog.

Daryl rubbed his eyes. I knew he didn’t sleep long. He looks tired as Hell.

"To Hell with all y'all!" he yelled, running out of steam.

"Just tell me where he is, sos I can go get ‘im." Daryl demanded.

I never realized before how much energy it takes to have that Dixon attitude.

Honestly, I’m not really sure if I should’ve gotten involved or not. I mean, Daryl is the closest thing I have to a friend in this group— besides Glenn. Glenn’s more like a kid-brother to me though, and everyone else gets really annoying but now I’m sort of glad I didn’t.

I don’t wanna become the villain for someone else’s mistakes unless I need to.

"He'll  _ show  _ you." Everyone looked at Lori. "Isn't that right?" she stared at Rick, expectantly.

_ I’ve missed something, haven’t I? _

"I'm going back." Rick stated. Yeah, I missed something.

Daryl walked away without giving any indication of an answer and everyone kinda shrunk back to what they were doing before.

I’m torn between going after him and giving him space.

I’ll go with the latter, for now. Track him down and keep an eye on him, if he doesn’t come back soon.

He shouldn’t be too difficult to track when he’s this steamed. I’m sure I can manage.


	3. 3

For about ten minutes, I sat on the hood of a shiny new red mustang I hadn’t seen before, until Rick, Daryl, and Shane came back; bringing another argument with them.

I swear, all these people do is argue; since the minute I met them that’s all any conversation has ended in.

“Why would you risk your life for a douche bag like Merle Dixon?” Shane followed Rick with visible frustration.

“Hey. Choose your words more carefully.” Daryl threatened but it didn’t faze Shane.

“Oh I did. Douchebag's what I meant.”

Hopping off the car, I walked over next to Daryl, hoping I won’t have to play referee. If I have to intervene, someone’s gonna get hurt and it’s not gonna be me.

“Merle Dixon...Guy wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dyin’ of thirst.” Shane mumbled. Sadly, that's probably true.

“What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me.  _ I  _ can't let a man die of thirst.  _ Me _ . Thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being.” Rick argued.

Merle…you lucky bastard. Not a lot of people have this kind of morality anymore.

I mean, Daryl would go back for you no doubt and I would likely go with him whether he asked me to or not but them…I can’t believe this guy has managed to talk these people into going back for you.

“So you and Daryl? That's your big plan?” Lori nearly scoffed.

Rick looked at Glenn with a look Glenn knows all too well.

“Aw…Come on” Glenn groaned.

“You know the way. You've been there before. In and out, you said so yourself.”

Glenn ran a hand through his hair, readjusting his hat.

“I know it's not fair of me to ask. But I'd feel a lot better with you along. I know she would too.” Rick glanced at Lori.

“That's just great. Now you gonna risk three men huh?” Shane huffed.

_ Three? _

“Four” T-Dog volunteered. Daryl scoffed bitterly.

“My day just gets better and better, don't it?” he didn’t bother looking up from cleaning the blood off his bolts.

“You see anybody else here stepping up to save your brother's cracker ass?” T-Dog pointed out.

I raised my hand but they carried on, without noticing.

_ Haaaa, just like school. _

“Why you?” Daryl asked.

“You wouldn't even begin to understand. You don't speak my language.” T-Dog replied.  _ I know how you feel. _

I got up and came up behind Daryl, waving my hand.

Finally catching Rick’s attention, he sent a confirming nod my way and I returned it, with a half-smile.

“That's five” Dale stated the obvious. Daryl turned, subtly jumping when he noticed me.

“How long you been there?” he growled audible to me alone. I shrugged, holding up 3 fingers.

“We need 'em here, we need 'em to protect camp.” I tuned back into the conversation— if it can even be called that. It’s just back and forth arguing. I feel like I’m at a diplomatic meeting of two countries no one’s ever heard of.

“Seems to me what you really need most here, are more guns.” A knowing look settled on Rick’s features.

“That's right. The guns.” Glenn smiled, catching on.

“Wait what guns?” Shane voiced the confusion which had passed on the many faces of those listening in.

“6 shotguns, 2 high powered rifles, over a dozen handguns.” Woah, that’s  _ a lot _ of firepower.

“I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left. I dropped the bag in Atlanta when I got swarmed. It's just sitting there on the street waiting to be picked up.” That’s like finding the fountain of youth in the eye of a hurricane  _ underneath _ the ocean floor.

“Ammo?” Shane asked, as if he was considering it.

“700 rounds. Assorted.” Rick answered.

I let slip a low whistle. In my opinion, that alone is well worth the risk of a little trip into the city.

Shane was silent for a long time, clearly thinking about how much that could help, if not immediately than in the future.

“You went through Hell to find us. You just got here and you're gonna turn around and leave?” Lori stammered in disbelief. Concerned housewife.

“Dad, I-I don't want you to go.” Carl spoke up.

_ Dad? So I was right. They are related. But wait, isn't his dad dead? _ Looking back and forth between the two, I noted the small similarities. It’s certainly possible.

“To Hell with the guns.”  _ Excuse me? Those bullets could save our lives.  _ “Shane is  _ right _ .  _ Merle Dixon _ ? He's not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in.” Lori argued.

_ God, people. We could've been there and back by now. Why are we still arguing about this? _

_ Maybe I should just grab Glenn & Daryl and bring Merle back while they argue. We’ll be back by the time they’re finished. _

I tapped Daryl on the shoulder and he looked at me. I glanced at Lori and Rick arguing, then back at Daryl.

Looking back at me, he grumbled, “They're married”

I looked back and forth between those three, then to Shane. That explains why Shane is on edge. Hooking up with your “dead” partner’s wife during the apocalypse, only to have said dead partner come back alive and well…I don’t envy him.

They’re lucky nobody except  _ -unfortunately- me _ , has seen them…ahem, hooking up.

God that’s an unpleasant memory. I did not need to see that, I can handle blood, people being eaten alive, and dead folk walking around but that…no.  **Just no** .

I feel bad for Carl...and Rick.

* * *

Climbing into the back of the cube van, I looked around the old truck.

It wasn't a minute before Daryl honked the horn with his foot impatiently

“Come on. Let's go!”

At least his temper’s tapered slightly.

Going to the edge of the back, I held my hand out and helped T-Dog climb in with the bolt cutters.

“Thanks”

Nodding, I turned my eyes towards Daryl. Seeing him going for the horn again, I threw a warning look and gave a little growl just for good measure.

If he touches that horn again, I’m gonna knock him out and leave him here. There’s only so much I will tolerate.

We can’t afford to be impatient in the city. Not with all those walkers tucked into every crevice. One slip and  _ we’ll all _ be joining them.

Rick & Shane talked at the back for a minute, something about bullets and old lady purses, while I went to the front by Glenn.

“You think he'll still be there?” Glenn asked, I nodded without hesitation.

Of course he’ll still be there. Merle's not smart enough to know how to get out of handcuffs.

Rick opened the side door and got in the passenger seat. I went to the back and reached up, grabbing the door the garage type door and pulled it down as the truck started moving.


	4. 4

Halfway to the city, I got tired of standing and laid down in the center of the truck; Getting a nice upside down view of the sky through the front windshield.

I can see the clouds from right here. It’s only like a 3 inch slit but it’s funny, no matter if you’re right-side up or upside down, clouds technically don’t have a right side up, yet they still look wrong if _you’re_ upside down.

Lying contently in the sunlight, I closed my eyes, letting a sigh go.

_ If only there was a nice cool breeze, you could almost forget the world is eroding away... _

Ten minutes of silence later, Daryl finally broke it instead of just scowling at T-Dog, or his crossbow.

"He better be okay. That's my only word on the matter."

" _ I told you _ , the geeks can't get at him. The only thing that's gonna get through that door is us." T-Dog rubbed his hand over his face. Exhausted frustration with having Daryl glaring daggers at him the whole trip shining through his voice.

_ Ohhhh...it’s gonna be a  _ long _ day. _

_ I should be getting paid somehow for this. If I’d known I was gonna be the chaperone on this  _ play date  _ I would’ve made a demand myself _ .

Another few minutes ticked by and Glenn finally stopped the truck.

I sat up, twisting to look at the pair in the front seats.

"We walk from here." Glenn looked at me and I nodded, getting up. I had intended to get the door but Daryl beat me to it.

He and T-Dog jumped out first, myself following closely, and we ran down the train tracks to a hole in the fence, me and Glenn use when we do runs into the city.

Glenn rolled the fence away, letting me step through first.

Once on the other side, I scanned the area for walkers. Luckily for us they hardly ever come out this far; and when they do, it’s usually only one or two who’ve wandered or were drawn out by a bird or something.

“Merle first or guns?” Rick stood just behind me, waiting for the others to step through.

“ _ Merle _ . We ain't even having this conversation.” Daryl came around him, but surprisingly didn’t blow past me in a reckless fury to find his brother without us.

“ _ We are _ ” Rick stated tenaciously.

"You know the geography. It's your call." Rick turned to Glenn as we began our journey out of the frying pan and headed straight into the fire.

"Merle's closest. The guns would mean doubling back. Merle first."

Good thing too, or we’d probably have ended up either splitting up or chasing after one very angry Dixon on a hunt for the other.

Glenn motioned at me and I jogged ahead of them. Per usual, I’m the scout.

I don’t imagine we won’t draw attention, all of us here. There’s only 5 of us, but in my experience, it only takes 1 to draw a crowd of those things.

A single wrong turn, downward draft, or just plain bad timing and Merle won’t be the only one left behind in the city.

* * *

We made our way to the department store Merle’s supposedly cuffed to, and it’s eerily empty; except for a lone walker wandering near the back.

I motioned behind me, letting the others know the coast is clear— for all intensive purposes. One walker on the other side against the 5 of us isn’t as much of a threat as I was expecting to run into here.

I tapped Rick when he came up next to me and pointed to the walker.

Rick motioned to Daryl, and pointed to the walker just as I had. Daryl moved around us and grumbled something before putting it down with a bolt.

I moved to the stairs and looked up through the center while the others made their way to me.

_ No walkers that I can see, and they aren’t exactly shy about letting you know they’re there. _

I motioned to the other 4 to head up the stairs and followed at the back, watching our 6.

Thundering up the flights of steps, as soon as we reached the top, T-Dog cut the chain, and Daryl ran out onto the roof calling for his brother before I could even blink.

I was last out onto the roof but I stopped as soon as Daryl yelled, “No!”

I followed his line of sight to a spot on the ground.

Merle wasn't there but a pool of blood, a bloodied hacksaw, and what I assume is Merle’s hand, is all that’s left.

Last time I checked, Walkers can’t devour bone and there’d be a lot more blood if he’d died here, plus that door was still chained. That dumbass must’ve done this himself.

_ Good God, man. _

_ All you have to do to get out of handcuffs is break your thumb, but of course, you decided it'd be less painful to cut your damn hand off— Hell, you could’ve jammed that saw into the space between the cuffs and just as easily have broken them. _

I ran my hands over my face, pulling my skin until I ran out of face and it all snapped back into place.

_ Now we’ve got two angry Dixon’s on the loose in a city full of corpses. One of them is missing a hand, the other has a  _ crossbow _ ... _ ** _Lovely_ ** _ . _

_ This is gonna be fun¿ _

Daryl paced back and forth before he flipped, aiming at T-Dog. Rick aimed his Revolver at Daryl's head in almost the same second but that didn’t deter Daryl from keeping his crossbow pointed at T.

“I won't hesitate. I don't care if every walker in the city hears it.” Rick threatened.

This time I did decide to get involved and came around Glenn, making sure Daryl could see me as I came up and gently but firmly placed my hand on his shoulder, silently telling him not to go through with what he’s clearly considering.

This isn’t gonna help Merle, he knows that. He  _ must’ve _ noticed the same things I have. He’s a hunter.

Daryl hesitated before lowering his bow, along with his head. I let my hand fall a few seconds later, when he looked back up.

He glanced down, getting his head back together before looking back at T-Dog.

"You…you got a do rag, or somethin?"

T-Dog hesitated, uncertainly pulling a blue bandanna out of his thigh pocket and held it out to Daryl.

Daryl snatched it less violently than I honestly expected and handed me his crossbow, not bothering to wait and see if I actually had hold of it before he let go.

I can’t believe he actually let me touch this thing, let alone hold it. He’s so protective of it— almost more so than he is of his brother.

I watched as he laid the blue cloth on the ground and picked up Merle's hand by the pinkie.

“I guess the saw blade was too dull for the handcuff.” And his brain, apparently.

“Ain't that a bitch.” Daryl narrowed his eyes at it, inspecting it as if he didn’t totally believe it belonged to his brother. I almost don’t believe it myself.

Placing it on the bandanna, he wrapped it up before rising. Looking between us, he motioned at Glenn before moving past me and shoving the appendage into Glenn's backpack.

Glenn gave a grimace but tolerated it. I gave him a sympathetic shrug and he nodded, closing his eyes.

Yeah, sorry Glenn. I’d have taken it but you brought the backpack and frankly, I’m better with a weapon than you.

"He must've used a tourniquet. Maybe his belt. There'd be much more blood if he didn't." Daryl turned back to me and I handed him his crossbow, following him back to the stairs.

_ What I don’t understand is how Merle got off this roof. The door was still bolted... _

“Merle! You in here!?” Daryl called down the staircase, crossbow ready before the rest of us followed him down.


	5. 5

We went into a sort of office building and I followed the blood trail into a reception room. I’m not even sure if this is Merle’s blood but it’s better than chasing a ghost, right?

Oh forget it, this whole search is about chasing a ghost. The odds here are not in our favor, not by long shot. I’ve never been overly fond of giving in to the odds though. I’m stubborn like that.

I stepped in something sticky and froze. I hadn’t noticed that I was about to walk on a corpse. Two dead walkers laid on the ground.

"Had enough in him to take out these two sum-bitches. One handed." Daryl spoke from behind me as he reloaded his crossbow.

_ What's that smell? _

I crinkled my nose and went to the other side of the room, looking down the hall.

"Toughest asshole I ever met, my brother. Feed him a hammer, he'd crap out nails." Daryl’s voice carried from back by the others. Somehow I don’t doubt that.

I followed my nose down the hall, with my knife ready.

"Merle!" Daryl called out again.

I turned around and softly whistled, catching their attention. I motioned for them to catch up, before going into a small kitchen-like room. Probably the break room, if I had to guess.

The smells definitely coming from in here. There's an open flame on the stove, charred grit next to it, and a lot a blood.

The others caught up with me not ten seconds after my entrance, with the same reactions I had in varying degree.

"What's that burned stuff?" Glenn naively asked.

"Skin…he cauterized the stump." Rick answered grimly.

"Told ya he was tough. Nobody can kill Merle, but Merle." Daryl stated.

_ Ain’t that the truth.  _ He probably killed himself by cutting off that very useful and perfectly functioning appendage. Gotta admit though, he is one tough thick-headed asshat.

Merle’s got willpower like I’ve never seen.

"Don't take that on faith. He's lost a lot of blood." Rick was quick to keep us aware he’s not superhuman, despite the evidence around us.

"Yeah? Didn't stop him from bustin’ outta this death trap." Daryl moved past me, to a broken window on the far side of the room.

"He left the building? Why the Hell would he do that?" Glenn trepidatiously panicked.

“Why wouldn't he? He’s out there alone, as far as he knows. Doing what he's gotta do. Survivin’” Daryl puts a lot of stock in his brother. I hope it’s not misplaced, for your sake, Daryl.

"You call that survivin? Just wandering out on the streets maybe passing out? What are his odds out there?" T-Dog— no offense but that could have been put more tactfully.

"No worse than being handcuffed and left to rot, by you sorry pricks." Daryl spat, rightfully leaving no room for a retort, and filled the following minute with silence.

"You couldn't kill him." Daryl turned to Rick.

_ Damnit, he’s looking to start a fight. It was foolish of me to hope this could be prevented. It was bound to happen sooner or later. _

"Ain't so worried about some dumb  _ dead  _ bastard."

...I’m not entirely sure if that’s supposed to be a threat or not.

"What about a thousand dumb dead bastards? Different story?" Rick retorted.  _ Hmph, not bad, Officer. _

"Why don’t you take a tally. Do what you want. I'm gonna go get ‘im." Daryl moved towards the window

“Daryl, wait—” Rick put his hand out, stopping him.

"Get your hands off me!  _ You can't stop me. _ " Daryl spat loudly, moving back out of Rick’s reach. I flinched and looked towards the door, making sure we weren’t attracting any  _ unwanted  _ attention.

“He's family, I get that. I went through Hell to find mine. I know exactly how you feel.” Damn, Rick.

You’ve got a silver enough tongue to kill a werewolf, mon'ami. I’ve never seen anyone able to  _ talk _ down a Dixon. Granted I’ve only known them for a couple weeks give or take _ . _ Still, I’m impressed.

"He can't get far with that injury. We could help you check a few blocks around but  _ only _ if we keep a level head."

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before reluctantly giving in. "I could do that.”

Rick nodded and glanced at the rest of us.

“Only if we get those guns first. I'm not strolling the streets of Atlanta with just my good intentions okay?” T-Dog put his foot down.

* * *

Glenn made the plan and usually I’m on board with his crazy ideas but this…this is a little extreme— even for us, and more than risky.

"You're not doing this alone." Rick stated.

"Even I think it's a bad idea and I don't even like you much." Daryl spoke his mind.

"It's a good idea, okay? Just hear me out." Glenn pressed.

"If we go out there in a group, we're slow; drawing attention. If we’re alone, we can move fast." Glenn reasoned.

“Look, that's the tank and that's the bag of guns.” Glenn explained using office supplies and a Sharpie drawn map on the tile. “That's the alley where I dragged you when we first met.”

"That's where Daryl, Eve, and I will go."

"Why us?" Daryl asked.

"Your crossbow is quieter than his gun and if she wasn't a ninja before this, she should'a been. She's my protection out on the street." Glenn explained.

_ Ninja, eh? I like the sound of that. _

"While Daryl waits here in the alley. I'll run up the street with Eve, and grab the bag. We run into trouble, she takes care of it without so much as a sound." You say that like it’s as simple as taking out the garbage, Glenn. Do you know how difficult this is gonna be?

"You got us elsewhere?" Rick asked, bewildered.

"Right. You'll be here, in this alley." Glenn moved an eraser on the marker drawn map.

"Two blocks away? Why?" Rick glanced at me as if I’d tell him.

"We may not be able to come back the same way. Walkers might cut us off. If that happens, we won't go back to Daryl. We'll go forward instead. All the way around to that alley. Whichever direction we go, we got you in both places to cover us." Glenn elaborated.

"Hey kid. What'd you do before all this?" Daryl asked. You know, he’s a lot more openly curious without Merle around.

"Delivered pizzas...Why?" Glenn answered.

Yeah, I remember saving your ass outside my building.

Your luck never ceases to amaze me, pizza boy. You just happened to be delivering to my building when this went down, and I happened to choose then to walk out my door.

_ Great, now I’m picturing ninja turtles eating pizza. _


	6. 6

Dropping off the ladder, I went to the mouth of the alley, checking the street carefully and motioned to Glenn; letting him know we're good to go whenever he’s ready.

"You got some balls for a Chinaman." Daryl loaded his crossbow.

"I'm Korean." Agitated, Glenn corrected.

"Whatever" Daryl brushed him off.

Glenn came up next to me and I nodded to Daryl before we slipped out of the alley.

We kept close to the buildings and I stopped Glenn next to a car, so a walker on the other side wouldn't see us.

When the walker passed by, I moved again and ducked behind some left over military sandbags, Glenn’s entry was much less graceful though.

He’s sneaky don’t get me wrong, but he's not  _ me _ sneaky. Now I know why he wanted me to come with him, and he was right to do so.

I motioned at him when I spotted the bag and there was an opening.

Glenn ran, grabbed the bag from the street, and hesitated before grabbing a hat too.

A walker spotted him and I pulled my knife, moving out from the hiding spot.

Glenn ran past me while I killed the walker quietly but carefully setting it on the ground was harder than expected because it was so heavy.

I managed but walkers had already cut me off. So going back the same way wasn’t an option.

I ducked underneath the tank, waiting for the walkers to trudge past before crawling out extra carefully.

Making my way back to the alley wasn’t easy but I didn’t expect to be startled by yelling.

I rounded the street corner in a panic and saw Glenn being pulled into a car, yelling for Daryl, walkers closing in.

The car drove off and Daryl yelled something but I've got bigger problems. Over a dozen walkers were between me and the alley.

Frantically looking around, I had no choice but to turn back- before they notice me.

I have to go around. I slipped back around the corner, keeping low and fast.

Which alley was it? He said two blocks right?

Muffins, I should've paid more attention. Why do I never pay attention!?

I went two blocks up and thankfully wasn't spotted; despite how crawling the streets are. The concentration of dead smells on this street must be masking my scent but that won’t last forever.

Am I really this sneaky? I mean I’ve been told but I honestly thought they were exaggerating.

I made it to the alley two blocks up but Rick and T-Dog weren't there. I could’ve sworn it was only two.

Maybe it was 3 blocks? No, I'm pretty sure he said two. Ahhh— 

Screw it. I'll just go back to the meeting place and hope they come back.

I’ll wait ten minutes there and if they don’t come back, I’ll go back to the van and wait there. Sooner or later they’ll have to go back there, right?

Calm down, geez.

Worst case scenario they leave me here and I have to make my own way back to the camp.

Ohhhh if they leave me here, they better  **pray** I  _ don’t  _ make it back **.**

* * *

It took me long enough to make my way back to the strategy room but when I got there, I heard an unfamiliar voice.

For a second I thought I had run into more people but then I heard Daryl’s voice.

"They took Glenn, and probably Eve. Could've taken Merle too."

"Merle? What kinda hick name is that? I wouldn't name my dog Merle." There's that other voice again. Who is that?

There was some more talking I couldn’t make out before a sudden commotion. I’m gonna guess it has something to do with Daryl.

Jolting forward, I went into the room where the voices were coming from, only to see Rick and T pulling Daryl off some kid. He’s gotta be younger than even Glenn.

What in the Hell did they do now?

Rick kneeled down in front of the guy and said something to him, before the kid nodded, but again it was too hush for my ears from this far.

I walked up behind them, tapping Daryl on the shoulder. He jumped out of his skin, whirled around with his knife in his hand. I jumped back faster than I ever have in my entire life, putting my hands up in surrender.

I calmed my quick breathing as fast as it had kicked up. I pat my stomach, just making sure. Damn, he almost got me that time.

"Son of a bitch." Daryl breathed, lowering his knife. He sheathed his knife, holding out his hand.

I smiled taking his hand, confirming I’m okay. No worse for wear...for now, at least.

"How in the Hell..." T-Dog trailed off, staring at me like I’d just moved a car with my mind. Pfft, if I could do that, we’d have a different way of life right now.

"Where've you been?" Rick asked, sharing the same relieved and befuddled look as the other two.

I shrugged and flashed a small devious smile before pulling myself up onto the desk, folding my legs up to get a look at the new face.

Seems we’ve been getting a lot of these lately. First Rick, now this kid. He can’t be more than 19. 20 at the most.

* * *

Rick and the others filled me in on what had happened in my absence and we came up with a plan to go get our pizza boy back.

I get to be a ninja while T-Dog's gonna pretend to be a sniper, and Rick & Daryl are gonna try to trade that kid— Miguel or something for Glenn. I hope this goes well. We may not get another chance.

In case things go sour, I'm watching from a distance with a handgun. I'm the backup. God knows why. I could probably sneak past all those guys, find Glenn, and sneak us both out before they have a chance to knock.

The big metal doors opened and my grip on the hilt tightened, focusing my aim on the man stepping out.

Oh that's a lot of people...I've got maybe 15 rounds. There's at least 20 guys there and if this turns into a firefight, there’s a good chance Rick & Daryl won’t make it out unscathed, if alive at all.

Heh, and we thought Glenn’s plan was whack. Oh lord, I hope you know what you’re doing, Officer.

Rick and Daryl looked up and I followed their gaze to Glenn being held at the roof's edge. I sincerely hope you’re not afraid of heights, kid.

The people went back inside after another minute or so and Rick and Daryl backed away. So that didn't go as planned but at least no one’s died, yet _ . _ Should’ve known this wouldn’t be that easy.

I watched their backs until they made it to me, then we turned heading back to the place where we left the guns, T-Dog meeting up with us on our way.

Moving through the city is still tough, especially when you have a hostage to watch over.

It’s always surprising to me how noisy people can be when they’re trying to be quiet. I forget sometimes how scarce a light step is. They better learn real soon though. This is the rest of our foreseeable lives; and the length of those lives, depends on how well they can adapt.

* * *

"Guns are worth more than gold. Gold won't protect your family, or put food on the table." Daryl paced back and forth, wearing a hole in the floor. Does he ever sit still? He wasn’t even half this edgy when Merle was around.

"You willin’ to give that up for that kid?" Daryl finally leaned against the wall.

"If I knew we'd get Glenn back, I might agree. You think that vatos across the way is just gonna hand him over?" T-Dog asked.

"You callin’ G a liar?" the kid looked up.

"Are you part of this?" Daryl spat, getting in the kid’s face. Miguel flinched back, backing down like a pack wolf before an alpha.

"You wanna hold onto your teeth?" Daryl smacked him upside the head and the kid shrunk back, returning to his quiet state.

"Question is, do you trust that man's word?" T-Dog moved on.

"No— question is, what you’re willing to bet on it. Could be more than 'em guns. Could be your life.” Daryl leaned against the wall.

“Glenn worth that to you?" Daryl asked, almost like he’s testing the Officer.

I crouched in front of the kid, curiously. He stared at me for a second before avoiding my eyes and kept his gaze trained on the floor.

So it’s not just Daryl he’s scared of. This kid doesn’t seem like he’d be in a gang. I’ve met a few gangsters before, they’re all cocky little shits in my experience.

“What life I have I owe to him. I was nobody to Glenn, just some...idiot stuck in a tank. He could’a walked away but he didn’t. Neither will I” Rick answered.

“You’re gonna hand the guns over?” Daryl shifted behind me.

“I didn’t say that”

“There’s nothing keeping you three here. You should get out. Head back to camp.”

“And tell your family what?” T-Dog

Abruptly standing, I slammed my hands on the table, making Rick flinch.

“You may owe Glenn your life, but that pizza boy is my best friend,  _ you twat _ .  _ I’m not going anywhere without him. _ ” I growled

Silence filled the room as I stared him down. Until he shifted, nodding at me.

I pushed off the table, straightening while he glanced at T, then over my shoulder at Daryl.

Shuffling pulled my attention behind me but there was nothing there and someone tapped my right shoulder.

How the f— now I know how everyone else feels when I do that. No wonder I’ve almost been filleted so many times.

Daryl held a shotgun out to me and I nodded, accepting it. I checked the chamber which was empty before Rick set several shells on the table in front of me.

"Oh come on. This is nuts." the kid stood up. Daryl pointed to the floor and he sat back down.

"Just do like G says."

You aren’t very thoughtful are you, kid? He’s lucky we’ve got no intention of hurting him— well, aside from Daryl but if worse comes to worse we can keep him off.

The last time he went off on someone -physically- it didn’t end well for him. Or Merle. I hope for his sake, he still remembers what happened after that scuffle, and who put 3 grown men in -more or less- time out.

At least Merle and Ed haven’t argued since.


	7. 7

This time we're all in. I took the back with T; packing a shotgun and two handguns hidden in my waistband, knives in their sheaths.

When we got there, they were expecting us and the doors opened. They've probably had eyes on us since we got within a block of this place.

Daryl shoved Miguel in first before following with a shotgun to the kid’s back. I followed after T-Dog being the last one inside and the doors closed behind me.

We stopped inside where -I'm guessing- G was there to greet us.

“I see my guns, but they’re not all in the bag”

“That’s because they’re not yours. I thought I mentioned that”

I trust Rick knows how to handle an interaction such as this better than the rest of us do. He was a cop.

I just hope he wasn’t a rookie.

“Let’s just shoot these fools right now, ese. Alright? Unload on their asses, ese”

I trained my raised shotgun on that guy. He’s one of the two who nabbed my pizza kid. If this is gonna get ugly, he’s going down first. That’s a promise.

“I don’t think you fully appreciate the gravity of the situation.”

“No, I’m pretty clear.” Rick lowered his shotgun and took out a knife.

He cut the kid’s bindings, shoving him forward to his people.

“You have your man. I want mine.”

“I’m gonna chop up your boy. I’m gonna feed him to my dogs. Three of the evilest, nastiest, man-eating bitches you ever saw. I picked ‘em up from Satan at a yard sale.”

I don’t hear any dogs. Either this place is bigger than I thought, or that’s the worst bluff I’ve ever heard. What sort of gangsters are these guys?

“I told you how it has to be are you woefully deaf?”

“No my hearin’s fine. You said come locked and loaded”

Rick cocked his gun and the rest of the room followed suit in less than a second.

I trained my sight on a set of boys I believe will be our biggest problem, should this turn into a firefight. The fastest reacting.

“Okay then, we’re here.”

Scanning over the room, I pinpointed all the places they’re likely to take cover, and where we will. I’ll have to drag Rick out. I glanced at Daryl and tapped my foot heel-to-toe, making two clacks.

He looked at me out of the corner of his eye and I glanced at T-Dog before eyeing the beam and stack of barrels on his other side. Following my train of thought, he nodded and I returned my eyes to Rick, waiting for the split second I’ll have to grab him and get down before we both end up as swiss cheese.

“Felipe. Felipe.”

An old woman came out behind G.

“Abuela, go back with the others— now”

“Get that old lady outta the line a fire.” Daryl warned

“Abuela, listen to your mijo, okay?” G half turned, looking over his shoulder. “This is not the place for you right now”

“Mr. Gilbert, is having trouble breathing. He- he needs his asthma stuff. Carlito didn’t find it. He needs his medicine.”

G looked back at Rick, and back at his people several times. “Felipe go take care of it okay? And take your grandmother with you.”

Felipe spoke to her in Spanish, trying to take her away but she noticed us and stopped him.

“Who are those people?” she asked, making her way to the middle of this standoff.

"Don' you take him." she shuffled up to Rick while everyone behind her was trying to stop her.

Rick glanced to me for answers, and all I could do was shrug. Sorry, Officer. I haven’t the foggiest.

“Ma’am?”

“Felipe's a good boy. He have his trouble but he pull himself together. We need him here.”

_ She doesn’t think— _ … _ Does she think Rick’s still a cop? Has she not seen what’s going on out there? _

“Ma'am. I'm not here to arrest your grandson.” Rick played along.

“Then what do you want him for?” she glanced at me and regrettably I shifted and glanced at Daryl. Even though I know there’s nothing any of us could really do— or would need to.

She— rather her presence makes me uncomfortable.

“He's...helping us find a missing person. Fella named Glenn.” Rick glanced around.

“The Asian boy? He's with Mr. Gilbert.” So he’s alive. But who’s Gilbert?

“Come. Come…I show you.” she took hold of Rick's hand, pulling him forward and however reluctantly, G said “Let ‘em pass” and they moved aside.

I followed Rick cautiously but stayed close to Daryl. If they try anything, I don't wanna be too far; in case I need to pull the officer out of a sticky situation. Plus I have a habit of wandering off, from what I’m told.

The old lady lead us through what looked like a sort of institute that smelled like an old people's home -full of old people go figure- until we came to a large cafeteria-like room and I spotted Glenn in a circle of people.

A tiny white puff in the corner caught my eye and ‘not wandering off’ slipped my mind, now that I know Glenn’s safe.

I went over to the small dogs, crouching in front of them. The puffy white one stared at me like I owed it somethin’ but he wasn't barking or anything. Just staring.

It's so fluffy, too fluffy. It’s too small. I don't like small dogs. It looks like melting string cheese on a week old ham.

If you’re gonna have a dog, make it a big dog that can run, that’s trained well, and trained to attack on command. Like a police or military dog.

The dog looked behind me all of a sudden and started barking. Looking over my shoulder, I was met with everyone staring at me.

“What're you doing?” Glenn asked.

I pointed to the dog and made a scissors motion with my fingers.

He stared at me confused, until Daryl scoffed, “She wants to cut the fur off.”

I nodded confirming his deduction and they stared at me strangely for a few more seconds before Rick pulled G off to the side.

When they started leaving, I stood up and followed them. The little white dog tried to follow me but I stopped abruptly, snapped my fingers, and pointed to the doggy bed. It stared at me for a second before running back and I jogged to catch up with the boys headed to a back room.

“What about the rest of your crew?” Rick started.

“The vatos trickle in. To check on their parents, their grandparents. They see how things are and most decide to stay. It’s a good thing too, we need the muscle.”

I wandered over to the window on the far side of the room, looking out between the boards.

Conversation has never been my strong suit. People say what they don’t mean, and mean what they don’t say. Lie. Say one thing, do another. Expect you to read their minds and give them what they want. Round and round, over and over.

It’s easier to understand someone through body language….most of the time.

No confusion, no lies, no con-man talk. Less communication is more. You can lie all you want with your tongue but your body will always tell the truth. Plus how someone reacts to silence, says a lot about a person. More than people think, if you know what to look for.

“The people we’ve encountered...since things fell apart, the worst kind— plunderers. The kind that take by force.”

“That’s not who we are” Rick said

“How was I to know? My people got attacked and you show up with Miguel hostage— appearances.”

He does have a point there. I don’t know exactly what happened, considering I was late to the party but I don’t imagine we instigated the fight, unless Daryl— …

Okay, we may be at fault here.

“Guess the world changed” T-Dog drawled

I turned, leaning my back against the boards and caught Daryl’s eye for a moment before the conversation continued.

“No. It’s the same as it ever was. The weak get taken.” G contradicted T.

“So we do what we can here. The vatos work on those cars, talk about getting the old people out of the city. But most can’t even get to the bathroom by themselves so that’s just a dream.”

“Still it keeps the crew busy, and that’s worth something. So we barred all the windows, welded all the doors shut except for one entrance.” Oh that’s a bad idea. One way in, one way out. If that door is compromised or overtaken, you’re gonna be trapped like rats.

“The vatos they go out, scavenge what they can to keep us going. We watch the perimeter night and day, and we wait.”

For what? Rescue? Cause that’s a long wait for a train that don’t come. Death? You won’t have to wait long. You can get that in spades these days.

“The people here, they all look to me now. I don’t even know why”

“...Because they can” Rick spun the shotgun in his hand and handed it to G.

I watched Rick take out several guns and give them to G, and just like that, we left.

I can’t believe nobody died. Not one person died.

Officer Grimes, if you ever say you’re not a miracle worker, I won’t ever believe you.

* * *

The whole way back to the cube van, I’ve just been waiting for Daryl to pop. He’s got that look on his face, and it’s been there since we left the compound.

I dug through my pocket as we were almost back to our ride and pulled out the little package I was searching for.

Opening it, I offered Glenn a mini-cookie and he started laughing. “How long have you been holding onto those?”

I shrugged tossing one up and catching it in my mouth. Rick chuckled next to me, and I offered him one but he refused.

Shaking his head, Glenn held out his hand and I gave him a couple. He popped the bite sized delights into his pie-hole as I gave T-Dog a few and moved over next to Daryl to offer him some.

He scoffed at me and I smiled shaking the bag a little. Giving in, he held his hand up and I shook the bag until a few tumble out. The rest however, are mine. And the only reason I’ve so graciously shared this time, is because I think we all deserve a little reward.

I dumped the rest out into my hand —only 5 or 6 left— and glanced to make sure Rick wasn’t watching before I put two of them back in the bag and rolled it up so it was no bigger than a credit card.

I waited about ten minutes, casually getting between Daryl and Rick before I reverse pickpocket him, stashing the small treats in the Officer’s pocket.

If he doesn’t want them, too bad. He can share with Carl and/or Lori.

* * *

“Admit it. You only came back to Atlanta for the hat.” Glenn joked

“Don't tell anybody.” Rick glanced at him with a slight smile.

I smiled at the banter but it was short lived; As I suspected it would be. Jokes and smiles don’t tend to last long these days.

“You've given away half our guns and ammo.”

Here we go. What did I say? I knew he was gonna boil over sooner or later.

“Not nearly half.” Rick corrected, already annoyed.

“For what? Bunch of old farts that are gonna die off momentarily anyhow? Seriously how long do you think they got?”

“How long do any of us?”

Damn he's good at comebacks. His tongue is so silver he could kill a werewolf with it.

Precisely why I don’t trust words. If he wanted to, he could do a lot of damage. I’m just glad he’s on our team.

I looked up as I came around the overturned bus and froze.

Daryl ran into my back, almost knocking me over and growled, “What the Hell? Why did ya—...”

My jaw was slack as I stared at the empty space where we’d stashed our ticket back.

“Oh my God” Glenn took the words right out of my brain.

“Where the Hell's our van?” Daryl’s breath moved my hair & tickled my ear and any other time I would’ve moved but I couldn’t.

“We left it right there. Who would take it?” Glenn began to panic.

“Merle” Rick growled.

Daryl shifted behind me.

“…He's gonna be taking some vengeance back to camp.”

I didn't hesitate before breaking into a run; the others on my heels.


	8. 8

I’m gonna pass out.

My lungs feel like they’ve been squeezed of all moisture and used as kindling. My legs feel like they’ve got sandbags the size of tractor tires attached at the ankle. My throat’s so dry it feels like it’s bleeding and I can taste metallic, dirt, sand, dust, salt, you name it.

This couldn’t even be considered running anymore. This is more like a heroin addict trying to run in a straight line after shooting up—

“ _ Ahhhhhh _ ”

Screams and gunfire split the cold silence, automatically sending my mind into Defcon 1.

"Oh my God" Rick breathed.

I pulled the handgun I haven’t had to use all day; finding a burst of sudden energy, I was able to run near top speed once again, towards the chilling sounds.

I ran over the hill and out of the forest, into the campground as lives depended on it.

I flicked the safety off at the same time I raised my gun, and started popping every walker in my immediate line of sight.

Oh God, they’re everywhere.

Screams, gunfire, growls, blood. Lots of blood.

I can barely tell the walkers from our people but as far as I can tell, I haven’t killed anyone alive yet.

"Make your way to the Winnebago!" Rick shouted over the gunfire, behind me.

I don’t know if it was instinct, or because Rick mentioned it, but I glanced at the RV and it’s a damn good thing I did.

A walker was coming up behind Lori up by the Winnebago.

"Lori! Get down!" The words barely left my lips before my gun was aimed at it and Lori dropped to the ground, taking Carl with her.

I fired my last round, hoping to whatever deity that’ll listen, it’s a clean shot and every nanosecond felt like an eternity. By the time the bullet pierced the walker right between the eyes, I felt like half my life had been lived.

The walker crumpled as I straightened, dropping my handgun in favor for the other one I’ve got but I wasn’t fast enough, and too focused on the miracle shot I’d managed.

“Eve!”

I spun around and ducked, avoiding bloody grabbing hands. I hadn’t even hit the ground yet before a shotgun blast took off 80% of the walker’s head. It landed right in front of me, blood and brains draining onto the dirt.

An eerie silence followed the walkers death. Whether or not the silence was in my head, I don’t know.

“You good?” Daryl appeared next to me, looking around for anymore threats.

It took me a moment to collect my thoughts and realize I hadn’t answered. I finally nodded and carefully stood up.

The ground looks like some ancient battlefield. Corpses and blood covering every foot of visible ground for ten yards in every direction. Hell only knows how many bodies there are.

The tense, anxious atmosphere worsened as choked sobs and crying replaced the panic.

I glanced over my shoulder to figure out what was going on and in that moment, I almost wished I hadn’t.

“Amy!” Andrea's broken hoarse voice called for the bloodied blonde college student lying on the ground.

“Amy!” She desperately shook her sister by the shoulders, to no avail.

“I remember my dream now. Why I dug the holes.” Jim’s voice barely registered in my mind. I didn’t realize I was dropping until my knees hit the rough uneven ground. Even the sharp spikes of pain it sent shooting up my legs didn’t shake my mind loose.

Turning, the gun in my waistband dislodged and hit the ground as I sat/fell down and held my face in my hands, resting my elbows on my knees.

...Why did we run?

We could’ve gotten back so much sooner if we’d only stuck around to find another vehicle. If we had, maybe not so many of us would’ve died.

* * *

I've been sitting next to Andrea all night. She doesn't need to be alone right now— she shouldn’t be. But she doesn’t need somebody who’s gonna pressure her for conversation either. Even with just their presence.

Lori came up and crouched down next to Andrea cautiously.

“Andrea”

“I’m so sorry.” she moved to her knees. Oh, what are you doing Lori? This isn’t gonna go well.

“She’s gone. You gotta let us...take her.”

Andrea didn’t move. Not so much as a flinch, or an incline of her head.

“We all cared about her and I promise we’ll be as, as gentle as we can.” Lori leaned closer to her, but didn’t try to touch her.

No response.

Lori looked at me and I shook my head, tilting my head as indication she should go.

She pressed her lips in a tight line and stood, gently placing a sympathetic, non-threatening hand on Andrea’s shoulder before she went back over to the campfire the others were sat at.

Less than five minutes later, I saw Rick coming up on her other side.

“Andrea”

I blinked and Andrea had her gun on Rick; cocked and aimed at his head.

“I know how the safety works.”

My hand was already on my knife, out of instinct, and I looked at Rick. Questioning whether or not he needs me to disarm her.

“Alright. Okay.” Rick tentatively began to back away, his hand outstretched the same way I’ve seen him do when dealing with dangerous, unpredictable people.

“I’m sorry.”

Andrea kept her piece trained as he backed away.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry” when Rick was a good 6 paces back, she lowered her weapon, slowly turning back to Amy’s body.

“You can go help the others.” Andrea finally acknowledged my presence. I sat there regarding her warily, until she looked at me.

“It’s fine, really. They could use your help.”

I stared in silence for another few seconds before nodding, and stood.

I brushed some dirt off my pants and set my hand on her shoulder; showing my sympathy. I honestly didn’t expect her to pull her gun but I don’t think she’d have shot him. Someone else...maybe, but not Rick.

I lingered a moment before letting my hand slide away, and went to help the others dealing with the bodies.

I came up behind Jim and just before I was about to tap him, Jacqui all but yelled, “A walker got him, a walker bit Jim!”

Everyone gathered quick. Too quickly for my liking. There’s no chance of dealing with this rationally now. Fear will take over, followed by panic— even hysteria if it gets far enough.

“Show it to us.” Daryl demanded, pickaxe laying over his shoulder.

Jim obviously doesn't know I'm here as he almost backed into me but I side-stepped, avoiding him.

He grabbed a shovel and within seconds there were so many different people calling orders I couldn’t distinguish any except Daryl’s.

“Grab him!”

I grabbed Jim's arm, snatching the shovel before he hurts someone while T-Dog came up next to me and restrained him. Daryl appeared in front, and lifted Jim’s shirt to reveal a clear bite over his lower ribs.

“I'm okay. I'm okay.” Jim repeated, sounding like he’s trying to convince himself more than anyone.

T-Dog let him go and everyone except me backed away as if they’d turn if he so much as breathed on them.

Rick came over, only having to glance around before he looked at me.

“Eve, guard Jim.” he whispered and I nodded.

Motioning for Jim to follow me, I took him over by the RV while everyone else gathered by the fire.

I suspect they’re deciding what to do about him...probably Amy as well.

“I'm okay.” Jim said again.

I put my hand on his shoulder, waiting until he looked up at me. My intent is to reassure him that at least in my eyes, he hasn’t changed but I honestly don’t know how much or what got through.

I don’t ever know for sure if people really get what I try to convey, but I suppose it’s better if they use their imagination. I don’t need to say anything, they’re capable of using my actions and interpreting the meaning they want—or need.

It’s like that saying. People will forget what you did, they will forget what you said, but they will always remember how you made them feel.

“Somebody needs to have some balls and take care of this damn problem!”

I turned and Daryl was coming towards us with a pickaxe ready to swing.

“Hey, ey,  _ ey _ !” Shane called

I moved in front of Jim just as Rick aimed his gun at Daryl's head, cocking it.

That's twice now and they’ve known each other what? Two days?

“We don't kill the living.” Rick stated. Daryl was almost glaring in my direction but I know he’s not glaring at me— he better not be.

He turned, slowly lowered the pickaxe to face Rick. Shane stepped in front of me like my presence between Jim and Daryl wasn’t enough to stop him.

“That's funny. Coming from a man who just put a gun to my head.”

“We may disagree on some things. Not on this. You put it down. Go on.”

Daryl reluctantly slammed the pickaxe into the ground and stormed off, while I glared at the back of Shane’s head.

“Come with me” Rick took Jim’s arm

“Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere safe” Rick took Jim into the RV for better protection and I was left standing here, alone.

I guess, I'll go find something to do. Camp’s getting a little stuffy, anyway. And not to be rude but it smells like an FBI body farm. That’s what happens when you have over a dozen decomposing bodies in the same area.

Ultimately, I decided to go down to the quarry and wash the blood off my skin. The water's cold but it feels nice. Especially on my sore muscles. My legs felt like lead all night, at least now they’re just sore.

The marathon from Atlanta, out here was a bit much. Even if I am physically fit, and a decent runner.

I jumped out of my skin when a gunshot echoed from the top of the cliff.

I ran back up the path as fast as I could, fearing the worst.

When I got back to camp, nothing looked different to me but everyone was looking at Andrea; still sitting with Amy. Only a big hole had replaced a part of Amy's skull.


	9. 9

I’ve never liked goodbye’s.

They never feel like goodbye to me. It’s more, see ya later, and I don’t mind viewing funerals this way. It makes it easier...for me, at least. To believe I’ll see ‘em again at the end of my own line.

“Ey, let’s go”

I looked at Daryl and nodded, jumping on the bed of the truck we’d just finished loading with the bodies of our people, while he got in the cabin and started it up.

The truck pulled out and I spotted for Daryl as he drove backwards up the hill; directing him away from boulders and trees until we reached the mass graves at the top where Rick and Shane were digging.

I put my hand up for Daryl to stop and he parked, shutting the engine off. I jumped off the bed, letting my knees absorb the impact. The truck door slammed and Daryl came up next to me, as I walked over to Rick and Shane.

“I still think it’s a mistake not burnin’ these bodies. It’s what we said we’d do, right? Burn ‘em all. Wasn’t that the idea.”

I don’t remember anyone saying that

“At first” Rick tossed a shovel-full of dirt onto the amassing mound above the graves they were digging.

“The Chinaman gets all emotional” Korean. “Says it’s not the thing to do, we just follow him along?” Daryl glanced at me, but honestly I’m not completely on board with either side of this argument.

I know why everyone wants to bury them— I know why Glenn was the one to insist upon it, but I also know that burying bodies nowadays just isn’t worth it.

It depletes what little resources we have. Spends energy we might need, time we don’t know we have.

This is gonna turn into a fight, isn’t it?

A flicker at the corner of my vision had my eyes snapping over in an instant, hand already on my knife but I relaxed when it turned out to just be the others coming up from the camp for the funerals.

“These people need to know who the Hell’s in charge here, what the rules are.”

“There are no rules.”

“Well that’s a problem.” I looked to Lori as she chimed in.

“We haven’t had one minute to hold onto anything of our old selves. We need time to mourn, and we need to bury our dead. It’s what people do.”

I glanced at my boots before looking at Daryl. His sour expression never ceases to amaze me. It’s always different, but I’ve never seen guilt there before.

Even if it’s only a twinge.

At least I’m not the only one who feels like they just got scolded.

* * *

“I can do it. I can do it.” Andrea stood in the grave dug for Amy.

Dale tried to help her move her sister’s body into the grave again and again but every time he tried she said, “I can do it!”

Andrea wouldn’t let anyone help, not Dale, not Rick, Lori, Shane, me...no one.

I never understood why people liked to be put in boxes and covered in 300-600 lbs of dirt.

Nowadays burning is taboo for some reason but in the olden days, it was a sign of honor and respect to be burned instead of buried. King’s, knights, and nobles were burned.

Burning was literally a funeral fit for a king.

Lori’s barely keeping it together. But I may have underestimated the women in this group. Andrea most of all.

She’s tougher than I gave her credit for.

Unsurprisingly Daryl was the first one to leave, after the burials were complete; The others following not a minute later. I waited for Andrea, and started walking down the hill with her at the back of the group.

She has this dead look on her face, has ever since she wrapped Amy.

“Eve”

I stopped at the bottom of the hill, looking back to find Carl running up next to me.

“My parents told me to stay with you.”

I gave a solemn smile and ruffled his hair. Laying my hand on his shoulder, I pulled him into my side.

This is a lot for an adult to handle, I can’t imagine what it’s like for a kid.

We got back to camp and Carl stuck to me like glue.

I tried to keep him occupied— and it worked for the most part but it’s harder than I imagined. I can see his brain working every few minutes when he starts to get bored.

Starts thinking about what’s happened. What could happen.

Not good, not good. How am I supposed to keep him from thinking too much? This kid’s too smart to fall for anything cheap— oh...

What about something everyone falls for.

I’ve still got those haven’t I?

I gave Carl a 1-minute finger and jogged over to my tent. I grabbed my backpack and started digging through it.

Aha! I pulled the small velvet pouch out with a jerk and went back over to the campfire. I pat the seat next to me and Carl sat down.

“What’s that?”

I gave him a ‘be patient’ look as I pulled the deck of cards out.

Ah, this brings back memories. This is how I spent most of my spare time in high school.

I never thought I’d say it for this reason, but I feel sorry for Carl. He’s never gonna know what high school is like. Not even hear about what it was like, most likely.

I shuffled the deck fancily and he smiled, eyes shining with wonder.

Fanning out the cards, I held them out to him with 1 finger up.

He looked at Andrea for clarification, who finally had the smallest of smiles. “Pick a card”

Carl looked back and chose a card. I motioned for him to show ‘everyone’(Andrea) his card.

Cutting the deck to the bottom quarter, I let Carl place the card back.

Damn, am I glad I got bored enough to learn card tricks in school.

I cut the deck piece by piece, placing them down onto the log until they were all in one pile again.

Taking the deck into my left hand, I peeled the cards down one after another back to my right. I repeated this two more times before I set up for a sloppy shuffle.

I took 3-5 cards then turned one over, then 5-8 more and turned another over, repeating the process until I got to the bottom. Moving the final card onto the top of the deck, I cut the deck again, showing my audience (Carl and Andrea) that the cards were randomly mixed.

Some were face to back, some back to face, and others back to back.

When I got to the back to back, instead of putting it back normally, I flipped the top half over, placing it back on the deck and holding it in one hand.

“When I snap my fingers, your card will be the only one face up.”

Carl looked a little startled that I spoke but it gave way to excitement as I snapped my fingers and spread the deck out on the camp chair arm.

Ace of clubs; the only card face up.

Carl flipped out; smiling and wide-eyed, while Andrea lightly clapped. I looked over my shoulder when clapping sounded behind me, to see Carl’s parents clapping as well.

Magic in my experience, is one of the best cures for a lot of things.

Rick gave me a grateful, impressed look and I returned it with a smile and a mock bow to my audience.

Lori thanked me for watching him —although I don’t see why, he can take care of himself— and the three of them went off to do whatever it is they do.

I scooped up the cards, showing off a little by fancily twisting that one face up card between two fingers and letting it fall into place as I seamlessly closed the deck around it.

To be honest though, I could use a break. I don’t mind entertaining but it’s been a rough few days.

I stuffed the cards back into the pouch and into my pocket, zipping it up so I didn’t lose them. This could come in handy again if word gets around that I can do card tricks.

Don’t get me wrong, Carl’s a good kid but I can only handle so many people for so long, and I doubt he’d want to keep the “magic show” to himself.

Especially when the atmosphere is so heavy around here.

* * *

I managed to slip away into the woods and took a long slow walk through the forest; listening to the leaves gently sway in the hot, dry wind.

Finally...I feel like I can breathe after, getting far enough away.

I stretched my arms, loosening my stiff back and took a much needed deep breath.

It feels nice out here today but after last night…It feels wrong to be enjoying the isolation & sunshine.

I can't be too careful on my own right now but sometimes you just need a minute to breathe. By yourself.

I doubt even Daryl and Rick are capable of keeping their guard up every second of the day.

Is that why Daryl talks to me, when he knows full well I won’t answer?

I’m sure it’s partly because I don’t ask questions like other people but I doubt that’s the only reason.

Now that I think about it though...everyone seems to be fairly comfortable around me. Even Merle is—...was.

Leaves crunched beneath my shoes as I came to a halt.

Why do I feel so guilty about that? It’s not as if I was the one who dropped the key, or cuffed him in the first place.

I wasn’t even there. Hell, I found out about it after Daryl did.

A twig snapped and I spun around -blades first- so fast I almost slid on the crumbled leaves.

“You ain’t easy to sneak up on.”

Good lord, Daryl. You scared the living daylights outta me.

Letting out a relieved sigh, I lowered my hands back to my sides. Did he follow me?

I waved and the tiniest smirk broke through his solid expression. A small smile flitted across my lips while I sheathed my weapons; giving him my full attention, I raised my eyebrow in slight questioning.

I know he wouldn’t have followed me out here if it wasn’t important.  _ IF _ he followed me.

“Shane wants to talk to everyone” Daryl turned and jerked his head in the direction of camp before walking.

I jogged to catch up, doing a glancing sweep of our surroundings until I fell into step beside him.

“What’re you even doin’ out here?”

I steadily blew air out of my mouth, letting my cheeks puff up before I looked at him and took a deep breath.

“If you put me in the ground when I die, I swear on Satan's Hellfire, I will haunt you for the rest of your life.”

Daryl stared at me in slight alarm before snorting and shaking his head.

“Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna bury you. I ain’t sure even death could find you.”

I looked at him confused before it was my turn to snort. I knocked his shoulder with mine, shaking my head. I needed that.

I’m glad we can still find ways to laugh, even after everything that’s happened. It’s rare for Daryl to laugh regardless but in spite of, is truly a new feet.


	10. 10

The two of us wandered out of the trees behind Rick and Shane, to the central campfire where everyone was gathered, listening to the plan.

“I've known this man a long time. I trust his instincts.” Shane glanced over his shoulder from his crouched position and waited until the two of us stood off to his right to continue.

“I say the most important thing here, is that we  _ need _ to stay together. So those of you that agree, we leave first thing in the morning. Okay?”

_ Leaving? Wait, what? Where are we going? _

I glanced at Daryl for clarification as everyone began to disperse and go about their business, and he shook his head.

“If you wanna know this stuff, maybe you shouldn’t wander off so much.” We’ll see how well that goes. “We’re goin’ to the CDC.”

Okay…I get why that’s a logical move, but Rick can’t possibly think we’re the only people who thought of that.

What do we do if it’s gone? Or occupied -by the dead or otherwise. What then?

I noticed Daryl walking off, motioning for me to follow and watched him grab his crossbow.

“It’s late, but we could probably still catch somethin’ before sun goes down.”

Nodding, I went to my tent and grabbed my night vision goggles. Just in case. I came out and Daryl was waiting by the forest edge for me but as soon as he turned to go Rick called out behind us.

“Eve”

I turned, giving him my attention as he came over.

“I understand you have night vision goggles” I held them up and he nodded.

“Would you mind taking watch tonight? Everyone’s still a little freaked out about...I think they’d feel safer knowing you’re on watch.”

I nodded and Daryl spoke up, “We’re goin’ huntin’ first. Should be back before dark.”

Rick nodded and finally let us head off, going back to his family himself.

* * *

Why would anyone feel safer with me on watch over someone else?

My shoe kicked a rock, clacking it into another and I flinched; startled by my own lapse in silence. Even if it was small, it’s still more noise than I’m used to making.

Daryl stopped and looked at me, snapping a twig of his own under his boot. Almost like he forgot I was still here—...he might have actually. Wouldn’t be the first time, and I doubt it’ll be the last.

Don’t ask me why but it’s unnerving both of us making noise on a hunt. Even if we’re only headed back to camp. I don’t think anyone ‘cept Daryl’s gonna wanna eat that skunk though. I know I don’t.

Leaves crunched underneath my boots and Daryl glanced at me again, this time looking around to make sure we weren’t unwittingly bringing something back with us.

Moving quietly in the woods is a lot harder than in a city, and I keep forgetting that just because we’re near camp, doesn’t mean I should relax.

Anything could happen while we’re gone. Hell just the other day camp got overrun and… we lost a lot of people.

And if I step on another twig, I might get stabbed. He’s a lot jumpier than he was earlier. He couldn’t have seen something I didn’t, could he?

I glanced around, scanning the trees behind us. Either I’m losing my edge, or there’s nothing behind us. It’s possible he saw it earlier, when we were deeper, or it could be paranoia.

I don’t blame him if it is. Even I have to admit to a little paranoia right now; and I’ve been looking over my shoulder for as long as I can remember.

We cleared the trees, treading on the dirt of the camp finally. Just in time too, the sun’s touching the horizon already. It’ll be dark within the next half hour.

I nearly went to my tent, I’m so used to just heading straight there but I’ve got watch tonight. I waved to Daryl as we went our separate ways and trudged towards the rear of the RV.

It’ll be nice to sit down after all that walking. I’ve been on my feet almost all day.

Jumping on the ladder, I climbed up to the top and slumped into my camping chair throne, nodding goodnight to Rick when he glanced at me. He returned the gesture and disappeared into his tent.

Looks like most everyone is hittin’ the hay early tonight. We are leaving first thing in the morning.

I sighed, watching the sky go dark as the sun faded behind the hills. It’s gonna be a long night.

“Eve”

I looked over the edge of the RV and Glenn tossed something up to me. Moments before I caught it, I realized it was a canteen. A full one judging by the weight.

“Wake me when it’s my watch”

I nodded in thanks and waved goodnight, watching him walk off to go sleep while he can.

* * *

8 hours later, I finally got tired enough to hand over watch. I wanted to let Glenn sleep a little longer, given what’s happened over the last two days but even I have my limits.

One more scrupulous glance around and I climbed down, securing my goggles instead of simply looking through them. Heading to the edge of camp, I pulled my knives and walked the perimeter, scanning out deeper into the forest.

I’d rather be safe than let something like yesterday happen again. Plus it’ll give me some piece of mind, changing over the guard.

I completed my sweep, and carefully woke Glenn up. Checking under his pillow as best I could to make sure I don’t get shanked or something.

Last night I woke Daryl up, I came this close to ending up with a slash scar across my chest.

Thankfully Glenn isn’t Daryl and he woke up sluggish. Although he did flinch.

I handed over my goggles and watched him go the RV while I headed to my own tent. My legs are so sore now, even with how exhausted I am, it’s noticeable.

Getting into my tent and zipping it closed, I proceeded to collapse onto my sleeping bag. Not bothering to change my clothes, I used my feet to kick off my boots, moving as little as possible; letting everything around me fade.

* * *

The next morning, everyone packed up the entire camp and huddled together by the cars, to hear Rick & Shane explain the plan.

I hoisted myself up on the hood of the Cherokee, next to Carl & Lori and flashed them a smile, which was graciously returned before Shane began speaking.

“Alright everyone listen up.”

“Those of you who have CB's we're gonna be on channel 40. Let's keep the chatter down okay? Now you got a problem, don't have a CB, can't get a signal anything like that you gonna hit your horn  _ 1  _ time. That'll stop the caravan.” Shane explained.

“Any questions?” Shane looked over the faces of the group.

“We're uh...We're not going.” Morales spoke up.

My eyebrows shot up to my hairline, and all eyes fixed on them in seconds; a whole range of emotions spanning across the many faces present, but surprise leading the majority.

“We have family in Birmingham. We wanna be with our people.” his wife elaborated giving the briefest smile.

“You're on your own, you won't have anyone to watch your back.” Shane reminded.

“We'll take the chance. I gotta do what's best for my family.” Morales’ conviction is hard to argue with but still...

“You sure?” Rick asked.

“We talked about it. We're sure.” Morales replied. This is a curve ball _ . _

“Alright.” Rick agreed reluctantly.

Rick and Shane had a mumbled conversation as Rick knelt down and dug through the bag from Atlanta. Rising again, Rick went over and held a gun out to Morales.

Shane came over, holding out a box of ammo as well. “Box is half full”

Daryl huffed, turning as if to walk away before pacing back to his spot.

Lori jumped off the car along with Carl and went to hug everyone.

I can't believe they're leaving. Safety in numbers guys.

How long will they make it on their own? Two kids, and only one person who can really defend themselves? Those odds are ridiculously unfavorable.

I’m sorry but their family probably isn’t even alive. Although I can’t blame them for holding out hope, there’s no reason why they couldn’t have held on either. But the chances of that are slim to none and even if they are alive, how do they plan to find them?

Anything, anything could have happened to them and there’s no way —short of a bloody miracle— they’ll find them in this mess. Rick finding his family with us was the one, in a 1-in-a-billion chance.

“Let's go, people! Let's move out.” Shane called, snapping me back into reality.

“Eve! Come on. Yer ridin’ with me.” Daryl called.

I nodded and grabbed my backpack, slipping off the hood. I stopped to hug the kids, and fist bump Morales’. I’m gonna miss these guys. God I hope they stay safe.

Making my way over to Daryl's truck, I slide into the passenger seat, dropping my backpack by my feet. Daryl near-slammed his door and mine followed suit.

Exchanging a brief look, I shot him a small smile and was repaid with a nod that couldn’t be considered more than a jerk of the head.

The caravan pulled out, washing a wave of nostalgia over me.

I’ve never been on a road trip before I was 19 but I feel like a kid going on one with their family for the first time.

In a way we are taking a road trip, but I doubt it’ll be fun.


	11. 11

I don't know when but at some point I must’ve drifted off, because I woke up and we weren’t moving; nor could I hear the sounds of engines.

Daryl wasn't in the truck so I got out, stumbling a bit on the uneven ground.

My mind was a bit hazy as I stretched my arms, popping my spine, and let them fall to my sides before heading around the RV just ahead to the front but my head cleared up soon as a familiar voice reached my ears.

“Look who's finally up” I looked up and met Daryl’s blue gaze.

Flashing a sleep-laced smile, I took my place next to him in the gathered group.

“I see somethin’ up ahead. Gas station, if we're lucky.” Shane dropped the binoculars down from his eyes.

Jacqui rushed out of the RV behind me, in a panic.

“Y'all, it’s Jim. It's bad. I don't think he can take anymore.” is all she said before running back inside.

“Hey, Rick. You wanna hold down the fort. I'll drive ahead. See what I can bring back?” Shane suggested.

“Yeah, I'll come along too and I'll back you up.” T-Dog volunteered, taking a look through the binoculars.

I raised my hand and Shane nodded, motioning for me to follow.

“‘Ey”

I stopped and looked at Daryl.

“Watch yer ass.”

I nodded, holding my fist up. His knuckles tapped against mine and Shane started moving.

“Y'all keep your eyes open now. We'll be right back.” Shane got into his jeep, followed by T. I hopped in the back, tapping the side to let him know I’m good to go and we pulled out.

I waved as we drove off down the road. Carl waving back but soon they all disappeared from sight.

* * *

Arriving at the building Shane spotted, we got lucky. It is indeed a gas station. The car stopped and I jumped out, pulling my knife and spinning it in my hand a few times; a sort of warm-up, in case things get ugly.

“How much gas you think is left?” T-Dog asked.

Shane picked up a gas can, “Suppose we'll find out. I’ll take point, T see what you can get outta the pump. Eve, check the store, see if there’s anythin’ worth grabbin’.”

I nodded, heading to the small convenience store’s glass doors.

I rubbed my sleeve on the muggy glass and peered through. There's almost nothing on the ground or shelves. I don't know if I like that.

Checking to make sure there was no bell or anything, I watched the inside for a minute before carefully pulling the door open.

No sound came so this must have been a station with an electric buzzer to alert the clerk.

The store's practically empty but I do see something interesting. I know a few tricks and things most people don’t think about. Let’s hope I’ve gotten here first then.

Hopping over the counter, I almost slid on the postcards covering the ground. Whoever was here got out in a hurry, considering how far out of the way this place is.

I looked around and smiled; thanking my unorthodox knowledge, and grabbed the shiny shotgun from underneath the register. There's only one box of ammo with like 9 shells but Hell, a gun's a gun.

It makes me uneasy that this store is almost completely looted, yet no one looked behind the counter for this thing. Even though it’s a wreck back here, the gun’s untouched.

It’s impossible for me to be the only person left who knows at small-time stores like this, clerk’s keep guns behind the counter. Especially in this state.

If this clerk had a gun...why’s it still here? Why didn’t they use it? It’s not just for show.

I checked around a bit more, rummaging through toppled products, and even some crumpled cash, but there’s nothing else that’s useful. Besides this badass lighter. I took the lighter from the counter, stuffing it in my pocket.

The register's busted open and judging by these little shrivelled pieces of nature, whoever this cashier was hid weed inside it.

Maybe this person just wasn’t very bright. Could’ve been high and got unlucky. That would explain why they didn’t go for the gun.

Glancing around again, I hopped back over the counter and went straight to the aisle of sugary snacks.

There's no candy but I grabbed a couple bags of cookies from the ground and stuffed them in my jacket. No one has to know, right?

He said grab anything worth grabbing, cookies definitely fall under that category.

I did another lap around the store, double checking everything for something we could use and found half a roll of duct tape left. Better than nothing I suppose. I left the store and jogged back to the jeep where Shane & T were putting a can of gas in the back.

Only one? You’ve gotta be kidding. Even a station this remote doesn’t have anything left?

“Find anything?” Shane took notice of me as I reached them. I held up the shotgun and ammo.

“Damn, you got some kinda luck, girl. Maybe next time you should get the gas.” T-Dog commented, getting in. I climbed in the back, laying the shotgun in the seat next to me.

As I sat down, the crinkling of plastic caught T-Dog’s attention and he looked back at me.

“What's in your jacket?” he asked, as Shane pulled out onto the road again.

I didn’t answer, looking to the side to avoid his gaze and pretended I didn't have anything.

“Come on. Let's see it.” Shane looked at me in the rear view mirror.

Sighing, I unzipped my jacket revealing my cookies. A long silence passed and they exchanged dumbfounded looks before the jerks busted out laughing.

“After all this, you're still goin’ after sweets.” T-Dog shook his head in amusement.

Well, cat’s outta the bag.

I may or may not have a rep for snagging sweets on runs, especially cookies but I didn’t think it would become gossip.

Usually it's just me and Glenn on runs, so  _ somebody _ must’ve blabbed. Traitor.

* * *

Getting back to the others -like I expected- was no happy greeting.

I went over by the kids and tapped Sophia’s shoulder, motioning for them to follow me off to the side. I glanced around to make sure no one was watching before removing the cookies from my jacket.

The two smiled, if only slightly, and I opened the bags. Snatching a cookie from each bag, I gave both of them their own.

“Eve” Glenn motioned for me to come. I nodded and ruffled Carl’s hair before going over to join the group’s discussion.

“It’s what he said he wants.” Rick stated.

What who wants?

“And he’s lucid?” Carol asked

Who are we talking about, Jim?

“He seems to be.” You don’t sound too confident in that, Officer. “I would say yes.”

“Back in the camp, when I said Daryl might be right and you shut me down…You misunderstood.” Dale shook his head. “I would never— go along with callously killing a man.”

I caught Daryl shift out of the corner of my eye. So he does feel guilty about that.

“I was just gonna suggest...we ask Jim, what he wants.” Dale glanced between all of us. “And I think we have an answer.”

“We just leave him here?” Shane muttered to Rick. “We take off?”

“Man, I’m not sure I could live with that.” Shane shook his head, glancing at his boots.

“It’s not your call.” I looked to Lori. “Either one of you.”

Forever the mediator between those two, aren’t you? I almost feel sorry for her.

* * *

Rick and Shane set Jim underneath a tree, a good 30 feet from the roadside, and one by one, everyone said their goodbyes.

I honestly didn’t expect it to come to this. Well, I did...but I guess I fooled myself into thinking this time it could be different. That he wasn’t gonna turn.

We’d get to the CDC, they’d help him, he’d be okay…Stupid.

Not even our gods can help us here.

I watched Rick offer him a gun but from the looks of things, he turned it down.

After saying goodbye, everyone headed back for their vehicle and when it was Daryl's turn, all he did was nod and Jim gave a half smile in return.

See, I’m not the only one who believes gestures are better than words; at least some of the time.

When my turn finally came around, I was the only one who hadn’t said goodbye yet.

“You know...I've only heard your voice once before.”

Umm...I nodded, not knowing what else to do and looked at my hands; picking at my dirty fingernails.

“Could you make it twice?”

I looked up, surprised by his request and hesitated for a moment before opening and closing my mouth like a gaping fish.

It’s been a long time since someone asked me to speak.

Breathing in through my nose, I nodded.

“Yeah”

My own voice sounds foreign to me. It’s not as if that’s anything new though. It’s always been that way. My voice has never felt like it belongs to me.

“Why don't you talk?”

My shoulders lifted without my permission in an unconvincing shrug.

“In my experience, you don’t need words to speak. Seems like a waste of time. I figure...better to save ‘em for when it counts.”

Jim smiled, exhaling a laugh. “Always did like yer smile. Ya reckon I could have one for the road?”

I looked down at my nails again, wrapping around the blades of grass beneath my fingers. Taking a deep breath, I found my resolve and looked back up, meeting his gaze, and mustered the warmest smile I could manage. The corners of his lips turned up in content.

It being time to take my leave, I straightened and reluctantly began my way back to the truck; finding myself stopping at the bottom, looking back.

“See you in the next lifetime, Jim.”

Smiling, Jim nodded towards the truck, telling me to go on. I wanted to stay a little longer but he evidently doesn’t want that. I’ll be damned if I don’t respect that. Wanting the people around you to remember you for who you are, not what you’ll become...I imagine when my time comes, I’ll want the same thing.

I don’t want anyone’s last memory of me to be a walking corpse. I’d rather be a ghost of the past.

I made my way back to the truck where Daryl sat waiting, and not a minute after I closed the door, we were leaving Jim behind.


	12. 12

We hadn’t spoken a word since our group had gone down one member. The silence was deafening between us in stark contrast to the usual comfortable silence, and Daryl finally spoke after having enough of it.

“I heard ya talkin’ to Jim.”

Tearing my eyes from the scenery, my gaze fixed on Daryl. He glanced at me for a few seconds longer than he probably should have, and much longer than I expected but it’s obvious there’s something else he has to say. Daryl isn’t the type to strike up an unnecessary conversation, especially with someone he knows won’t carry one.

“Finally know why ya don't talk” It was almost a mumble when he spoke again but my suspicion loomed over intangibly. I'm not sure what he's getting at _ . _

And I’ve answered this question at least three times. What is everyone’s fascination with my “reason” for not talking. Is it really that unusual?

I gave a small nod to encourage him to go on; let him know I’m listening.

“That the only reason ya don't talk?” he asked, glancing at me again, this time only briefly to view my answer and I nodded. He glanced at me unconvinced but didn’t speak again and I allowed my gaze to turn back to the passing scenery.

I really don’t understand this fixation. He’s not chatty himself but sooner or later, he will want to know the why— rather how, behind my reason.

I’m not fool enough to believe he’s given up; this will come up again, be it near future or distant. And I’m not looking forward to it either way.

* * *

We reached the CDC just past sundown, the light was fading faster by the second.

The smell hit me like an 18 wheeler as soon as my boots hit the pavement. Coughing was involuntary, not just for me. Even Daryl had trouble keeping his disgust contained.

I forced myself to breath through my nose, no matter if it made me cough or gag. Smell is the weakest sense, and after a minute it wasn’t so bad anymore.

I followed Daryl to the others while we made our way towards the CDC building.

Bodies littered the 50 meters between us and the building. You couldn’t go 5 feet before another one was in your path. If these bodies weren’t dead twice over, not one of us would stand a chance.

Nobody would come out of this alive, not even come back as a walker, there’d be nothing left of any of us.

People kept shushing each other, trying to move quietly but let's face it they're a noisy bunch. The only one here capable of being truly silent is me but I can't hold it against them. I'm a ninja after all.

Ah, Glenn. What have you done to me? You’ve created a monster.

Well you know what they say: Best way to fight monsters, is with better monsters.

We got to the doors and Rick’s fist loudly collided with the metal security shutters.

“There's nobody here.” T-Do’s distressed statement caused a sweep of panic through the already scared group.

“Then why are these shutters down?” Rick glanced around.

“Walkers!” Daryl’s call set me on alert and I spun around as he killed one that was still far from reaching us. Pulling my knife, I scanned for more.

Not letting the others pull me into their panic is difficult when everyone’s spiralling. Standing out in the cold, completely exposed is never easy to deal with, even for trained soldiers, let alone civilians such as ourselves.

“You lead us into a _graveyard_!” Daryl yelled at Rick. Not the smartest move at the moment. Counterproductive shushing came in response but they could hardly be noticed over the sounds of the children’s muffled crying.

The atmosphere of fear hung so thick I could almost taste it. The stench of death around me seemed pale in foreboding comparison to what could happen while we stand here like live bait.

“He made a call” Shane defended his partner.

“It was the  _ wrong damn _ call!” Daryl affirmed furiously.

“Shut up.  _ You hear me? _ Shut up.  _ Shut up _ .” Shane pushed Daryl back, pointing as threatening as pointing can be at him.

To my surprise, Daryl didn’t snap at him. Instead he moved back to watching the rear with me.

I glanced at him to see if he was done or if I would need to remind him what’s more important right now. His blue gaze caught mine for a mere second before it returned to the open yard and street before us.

“Where are we gonna go?” Carol questioned through desperate tears. My eyes flicked back and forth between what was going on behind me, and the area surrounding us.

I don’t like how quiet it is out here, save for us. Being the only things making noise out here, we might as well be servin’ ourselves up on a silver platter.

“She's right. We can't be here— this close to the city after dark.” The panic stricken voice of Rick’s wife pulled Rick’s attention over his shoulder for a moment.

“Fort Benning, Rick. Still an option.” Shane prompted

“On what? No food, no fuel— that's 100 miles” Andrea shot it down.

“125, I checked the map” Glenn corrected, hastily glancing in all directions every few seconds.

Come on Rick. I know you can bring this under control, just let this idea go. We’ve got bigger things to worry about. We’ll figure things out somehow. If worse comes to worse, I hope you can get us out of this...or live with where the cards fall.

“Forget Fort Benning we need answers  _ tonight _ . Now.” Lori pressed

“We'll think of something.” Rick stated as calmly as the situation permitted; trying to sound reassuring but sorta failing. His calmed tone was enough to convince me, that at the very least, he and I are on the same page.

Finding new peace of mind, my nerves steeled and allowed me to focus solely on my self-assumed role in the group.

“ _ Come on _ ” someone took things into their own hands and the next thing I knew, everyone was headed back towards the cars— near racing.

I hesitated because the proclamation hadn’t come from neither Rick, Shane, nor Daryl. It’s no secret their voices are the only three with any sort of plan at the moment, and they’re the only ones I trust at the moment.

Everyone else’s fear will get the better of them.

Daryl may complain and question but he’s not stupid enough to bark his own orders at a time like this unless he’s absolutely certain.

I grabbed Glenn’s backpack as he moved past me, stopping him. We can’t just go running off. That’s how the last gazelle to move becomes a meal.

“ _ The camera _ ! It moved.” Rick called, stopping the others dead in their tracks.

“You imagined it” Dale dismissed the statement after a moment’s consideration flicked through his composure.

I don't know what to do.

There are walkers spotting the distance to the cars and we're pretty much trapped against the building. Everyone is panicking and they are damaging my calm.

I don’t know whether to grab Rick and drag him with me, or trust him and stay right where we are. My instincts told me to move but also pressing to trust Rick.

For the first time in my life, my gut isn’t helping me make a decision.

“You're killing us!” Rick began desperately yelling at the machine.

So many things were going on around me, my mind couldn’t focus on anything for more than a few seconds. What little stability Rick’s previous calm had brought was gone with his collapsing composure.

I let go of Glenn’s backpack but he didn’t move like I half expected. Half the eyes in the group turned to me, including Shane, as if I’d be on the move and they were watching for whatever call I made.

I glanced at Daryl but it didn’t bring the clarity I’d hoped for.

What do I do? Should I follow my gut? or trust Rick?

My grip tightened on my blade and I looked towards the vehicles, identifying the safest path. If we go now, we can make it before things get ugly, but what then? Where do we go?

Damnit, we can worry about that later.

I started to move, looking back to make sure Daryl at least knew what I was doing. I didn’t have to though, as soon as I took a step, the others were already moving.

I didn’t get five feet before I glanced back and a bright light blinded me.

The sound of screeching metal rung in my ears, and for a moment I wasn’t sure what was happening but as my gaze caught sight of the shutters rising, everything stilled.

The entire group stood stunned —even myself— but everything snapped into alignment within my mind in a single fleeting moment. Having grasped a solid plan with time running out, I was moving before my mind could catch up.

My hand closed around Lori's shoulder and gave her a slight push towards to the doors.

The simple action of one person moving made a ripple effect, just as it had before and everyone snapped out of the confused daze overtaking them.

“Daryl, cover the back.” Rick called as he moved forward. I covered the back with Daryl as the others began flowing through the thick glass doors, weapons raised.

“Hello?” Rick’s voice echoed off the walls.

“Close those doors.” Dale instructed, as the last of us finally slipped inside.

“Watch for walkers.” No shit

What else am I gonna watch for? Flying pink marshmallows and a rainbow-powered spaceship piloted by a unicorn spittin’ skittles?

“Hello?” Rick’s voice echoed through the massive empty space again.

My ears picked up the familiar sound of a gun cocking and a new voice called, “Anyone infected?”

“One of our group was...he didn't make it.” Rick answered warily.

I kept my eyes on the outside, glancing over my shoulder every couple of seconds to see what was going on.

“Why are you here? What do you want?” this new voice questioned in a hurry.

“A chance” Rick answered boldly.

“…That's asking an awful lot these days.” came their reply.

“I know…” Rick trailed off leaving a moment of silence, disrupted only by fearful and exhausted panting of close to a dozen desperation riddled people.

Finally taking my attention away from the doors for a moment, the man’s scrutinizing gaze scanned over each of us until he finally spoke again.

“You all submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission.”

“We can do that.” Rick agreed on behalf of the group with only a moment’s hesitation.

“You got stuff to bring in, you do it now. Once this door closes it stays closed.” The man purposefully strode towards us, lowering his gun.

Rick nodded and looked at us.

“Eve, Glenn, Daryl, Shane, you're with me. The rest of you stay here. We’ll run for the cars and grab what we need. Eve do you have your goggles?”

I nodded and took point; motioning at Glenn and Daryl to follow while I moved for the doors.


	13. 13

Opening the door discreetly, I pulled my night vision goggles out of my bag and pulled them over my head before taking both my knives into my fists.

Okay 6 walkers to the right, 9 to the left heading past. If we move along the side of the building and go behind those sandbags halfway we should be able to make it past without drawing attention to ourselves.

I motioned for them to follow, staying low as I slipped out. Keeping to the side of the building, I stopped behind a wall and peeked around making sure the coast was clear.

I pulled the goggles off and handed them to Glenn just behind me as I glanced back. I pointed towards the sandbags 10 yards from us. He nodded and made the sprint, ducking behind them and looked around with the goggles.

He gave a thumbs up and I sent Daryl, Shane, and Rick next before going myself.

Glenn handed the goggles to Rick as soon as I got there and he looked towards the cars before handing them back to me.

“Eve, think you and Daryl can handle the one by the rear truck?”

I looked the goggles and nodded.

“Good. Only grab what you can carry. Eve, Daryl, and Glenn go to the truck and the van, Shane and I will take the Cherokee and the RV.”

We split into two teams and on my signal, ran for the cars.

I went straight for the walker next to the Cherokee’s bumper; spilling walker blood from the back of it’s skull all down my sleeve, while Glenn and Daryl went for the truck. I carefully set the body on the ground, minimizing as much noise as I could and covered Glenn while he dug through the van.

Daryl was in and out of the truck in a matter of seconds and keeping guard with me. Not surprising considering all that wasn’t much in there in the first place.

Glenn closed the van door a bit louder than I would’ve liked but it didn’t look like anything heard us and we moved around the Cherokee to the RV without a hitch.

Glenn covered Shane while he dug through the Cherokee, and Daryl watched, while I ducked inside the RV and helped Rick grabbed everything we could and shove it in bags.

“That’s everything” Rick muttered as we sealed the bags up. I heard Daryl’s low, brief warning whistle and secured the large bags to my person as I came out.

Daryl pulled us both around the front of the RV, to avoid walker eyes and we crept along the back, meeting up with Shane and Glenn behind the Cherokee.

I peered over the hood across the distance back to the building through my goggles and clicked my tongue.

Damn, we’re blocked.

I scanned around but it was no use. There’s too many for just us five and guns aren’t an option.

Shit…

“What’s it look like?” Rick questioned, no doubt getting restless.

We need a distraction.

I passed the goggles to Rick as I looked around for anything we could use but there wasn’t much more than rocks, a few pieces of broken glass and some litter.

“Oh Christ” Rick passed the goggles to Daryl who took a brief look before passing them to Shane and moving around Rick to crouch next me.

“What are we gonna do, we can’t get past that without being seen” I glanced at Glenn who now had the goggles.

I might be able to use the glass, maybe throw one of those half bottles, draw them away with the shatter. But that won’t draw the ones closer to the building. At the most they’ll be looking away.

How do we get them to move? We can’t risk killing them, the others will be on us in seconds if we try that. It’ll draw too much attention if we try to kill them. Even stealthily.

We can’t just leg it past, not with all this extra weight.

“You got a plan?” Daryl grumbled, tapping my elbow with his.

I glanced at him, long enough to let him know I was thinking.

“What’re you thinkin?”Rick looked at me. Wow, never thought I’d see the day when I’m the one with the plan over you, Officer.

“Talk to us Eve” Shane got impatient, watching me look around.

Half-baked plan is better than no plan. I reached for one of the bottles and felt a shift in my jacket pocket as I picked up the bottle.

What have I—...I pat my jacket pocket. Oh that’s brilliant.

Thank you convenience store.

I dipped into my pocket pulling out the shiny lighter I’d snagged, and rounded up some flammable street trash. A flattened coffee cup, half a torn burger wrapper, a few pieces of paper, and moved back behind the bulk of the car so the light wouldn’t be seen before I wanted it to be.

I reshaped the cup to the point where it could stand upright on it’s own and balled up the wrapper with the little shreds of paper, stuffing it all inside.

“What’re you doing?” Glenn asked, while the four watched me work.

I pointed back towards the van and got them moving back while I lit the wrapper inside the cup and carefully placed it out in front of the where it would be seen between the gap of the RV and Cherokee.

I moved quick in getting back to the van and grabbed a handful of gravel on my way; stopping long enough to chuck it at the RV.

The rocks scattered over the Cherokee, clattering against the metal and glass of the cars, and I moved around the edge of the van next to Daryl.

We watched as the walkers moved out of our path towards the burning cup, until Daryl was confident we were clear, and motioned for us to move.

We legged it back to the sandbags, and instead of stopping this time, we ran straight for the CDC doors.

The second we made it back inside, T-Dog and Dale closed the doors behind us and the shutters began their descent over the glass doors.

I panted, letting my heart rate drop back to normal as I handed off the bags to their respective owners.

“Rick Grimes.” Rick outstretched his hand towards the man who had let us in.

“Dr. Edwin Jenner” Jenner looked at his hand but ultimately didn’t take it.

Steel doors slid open behind Jenner and everyone packed into a large elevator like sardines. As if that wasn’t bad enough, as soon as the doors closed, it started going down; Much to my dislike.

Breathe, just breathe. We're okay. We're fine.

You are not in a steel box hanging over God knows how many stories of nothing but air.

Wide open fields, picture it. Ah, our first time skydiving. The clouds, all the space, deafening rush of wind.

Inhale, exhale.

It was awkwardly silent for most of the ride down which I was perfectly alright with before Daryl broke my concentration.

“Doctors always go round packin’ heat like that?”

“There were plenty left lying around. I familiarized myself.” Came Jenner’s swift reply. He looked back over his shoulder between all our faces.

“But you look harmless enough.”

His gaze fixed on Carl and my hand hovered over my knife, watching him like a predator.

“Except you. I'll have to keep my eye on you.”

Carl spawned a Hell of cheeky grin for someone who was terrified and crying not ten minutes ago. But I’m grateful he bounces back so quick. It’ll serve him well.

Exiting the elevator provided half a second’s relief to my mind before it reminded me we were now God knows how many feet underground.

My mouth went dry, while I tried to keep my breathing under control.

Following Jenner down a large hallway, I tried to focus on anything except where I was; resulting in my becoming invested in observing how different people walked. Who had the biggest gate, who had the heaviest step, whose hips swung from side to side.

That is, until Carol decided the silence was worse.

“Are we underground?” Jesus, Carol. Don’t remind me.

“Are you claustrophobic?” Jenner asked almost rhetorically.

“A little” she sourly admitted.

Wide open space. You're in a wide open space. Nothing but sky, beach, and ocean as far as the eye can see.

“Vi, bring up the lights in the big room.” Jenner called.

Come on, you know how this works. Focus on your breathing. Good girl. Slow your breaths.

I relaxed my shoulders, picturing gravity weighing my arms down, and focused entirely on remembering my trip to the Caribbean. The warm sunlight, soothing breeze, perfect temperature. The smell of the sea spray and tropical flowers. The coconut lotion and grilled pineapple slices I got addicted to whilst I was there.

“Welcome to zone 5”

“Where is everybody? The other doctors— the staff?” Rick inquired

“I'm it. It's just me here.” Jenner turned back to look at us.

“What about the person you were speaking with? Vi?” Lori asked.

“VI, say hello to our guests. Tell them…” Jenner paused, “Welcome”

“Hello guests. Welcome.” a disembodied voice echoed throughout the -thankfully- large open room.

“I'm all that's left.” Jenner summed up. “I'm sorry”

At least I feel a little less...confined, in this bigger room.


	14. 14

“What's the point?” Andrea started as Jenner pulled the needle out of her arm. “If we were infected we'd all be running a fever.”

“I've already broken every rule in the book letting you in here. Let me atleast be thorough.” Jenner replied.

“All done.” he put a tiny bit of gauze on her arm. Andrea stood up and staggered but Jacqui was quick to steady her.

“You okay?” Jenner looked at her with concern.

“She hasn't eaten in days. None of us have.” Jacqui explained, as she helped Andrea sit.

Jenner motioned at me and I looked at Jacqui, having hoped I could go last but no such luck.

I reluctantly got up and sat down, stiffly rolling my sleeve up. Jenner stared at my arm for a second and I grit my teeth. He motioned for me to give him my arm but I hesitated a second too long.

“You afraid of needles?” he asked. I stayed stiff without answering but that was answer enough.

“Don't worry. It'll only be a slight pinch.”

Yeah right. Like that makes it better. That's what every doctor says.

Extending my arm as slow as I could get away with, I tried not to shake.

I bit my tongue and tried not to flinch or grimace as he pushed that foul sharp rod into my skin; extracting the viscous red liquid keeping me alive.

“See? That wasn't so bad.”

For you!

As soon as he pulled it out, I shot out of the seat and retreated several feet from the table.

I hate to admit it but needles transfix me, and where I found myself standing could, could, be construed as hiding behind Daryl.

Dead people I can deal with, but needles— needles underground—  **Hell no** .

* * *

Laughter filled the room. The majority of the group sat around a table, filling their stomachs with food and wine.

“You know in Italy. Children have a little bit of wine with dinner, and in France.” Dale educated those who could still pay attention.

“Well, when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some then.” Lori kept her hand over Carl's cup.

“Come on, what's it gonna hurt?” Rick looked at her.

Lori stared at him for a second; having one of the same mental conversations Daryl & I have, before she took her hand off Carl's glass with an amused smile.

Bouts of laughter and hoots boomed through the room; drunken glasses were raised as Dale poured a miniscule amount of red liquid into the plastic cup before the boy.

Carl took the glass and eagerly sipped, while the rest of us waited for the ball to drop.

The look on his face when he tasted it— Priceless. And the room erupted with laughter again.

God I can’t remember the last time we all laughed like this. I could get used to this.

“Stick to soda pop there, bud.” Shane don’t be a party pooper.

“Not you Glenn.” Daryl commanded and I looked at Glenn, to my left.

“Whaa?” Glenn set down the bottle of wine he’d been turning over in his hands for the past 20 minutes.

“Keep drinkin, little man. I wanna see how red yer face can get.”

Boisterous laughter exploded around the room for the tenth time tonight and I chuckled, downing the rest of my glass just as a light sound of cutlery clinking against glass captured the room’s attention.

“It seems to me; we haven't thanked our host properly.” Rick stood, raising his glass.

“He is more than just our host.” T-Dog corrected, raising his swaying glass.

I raised my empty glass and Daryl grabbed my hand, steadying it as he poured me another drink.

A part of my skull -that wasn’t buzzing- told me it was time to quit but the red liquid was just so tempting and it would be a shame —not to mention rude— to let it go to waste.

Besides, we— we deserve a little break. Who knows when it’ll happen again.

“Do you ever talk?” an intoxicated T-Dog peered at me from behind his glass on the other side of the room. I smiled and gave a frivolous nod.

“Say somethin then”

I shook my head vigorously, still smiling like an idiot.

“She ain’t a dog. She don't speak on command.” Whoa, even Daryl’s a little tipsy I see. Actually I don’t, everything is starting to sway, like those mirrors you find at carnivals.

“That's right” I agreed, drunkenly. I tried to keep myself sitting up straight but failed. I let myself get a little too far and fell off the counter I was sitting on.

Seconds later, the entire room burst out laughing again. My own among them.

I laid there on the ground, not willing to pull myself up. I -remarkably- didn’t spill my wine so why bother?

The next thing I knew, the party had all but died and I realized there was a serious conversation going on.

“When the military cordon got over run, the rest bolted.” Jenner’s eyes were fixed on Shane. Wait what are we talking about?

“Every last one?” You really nail that condescending tone, Shane, don’t you?

“No.” Jenner stated. “Many couldn't face walking out the door. They...opted out. There was a rash of suicides.”

The room went quiet, only the sounds of rough swallows and sips.

“That was a bad time." Jenner stared down in remorse.

“You didn't leave.” Andrea prompted him to continue.

“I just kept working. Hoping...to do some, good.” Bull—shit. You’re a crap liar, Jenner.

A long uncomfortable silence passed before Glenn walked near me, almost stepping on me.

“Dude, you're  _ such  _ a buzz kill…”

“…I want pancakes, with little whipped cream faces” Oops. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

Jenner smiled along with a few others before he stood up. “I'll show you where you'll be staying.”

Chairs scraped against the floor as everyone started getting up, and Daryl appeared above me.

“Need help?”

I shook my head and tried to sit up but it took more effort than usual. Plus I don’t wanna spill my glass. It’s precious. I snuggled the glass stem, staring at the red nectar swirling around. I could’ve sworn there was more in here before.

“Did you, drink...my wine?” I looked up at Daryl.

“Never thought I'd see you this hammered.” Daryl took my glass and set it on the table, despite my grabbing motion to give it back. He grabbed my wrists and pulled me up to my feet but I could barely stay there.

Daryl seemed to have no trouble finding great amusement at my expense. The jerk kept laughing every few seconds as I tried to keep my balance.

“Isss not funny.” I finally snapped, but it came out more whiny and frustrated than planned and I felt my face twist into a grimace at the sound.

“You wish” Daryl snorted, taking my arm and pulling it over his shoulders. His arm wrapped behind me, which I stupidly tried to watch until my neck protested(humans don’t bend that way) and my gaze turned forward again. At least I think— hope, hope that’s forward.

I should have listened to that little voice telling me I’ve had enough when it did.


	15. 15

Jenner showed us down a hall where our rooms were, explaining things as we went.

“Most of the facility is powered down, including housing. So you’ll have to make do here.” Jenner flipped on the lights as we followed down the hallway.

“The couches are comfortable, but there are cots in storage if you like.”

I looked through a doorway as we passed the room. It was simple but it almost looked like an office with a personal bathroom. It probably was, actually.

“There's a rec-room down the hall that you kids might enjoy. Just— don't plug in the video games, or anything that draws power.” Jenner leaned down to their level, bracing his hands on his knees.

“Same applies.” Jenner straightened, pointing at the rest of us behind the kids.

“If you shower go easy on the hot water.” Jenner disappeared around the corner at the end of the hall and Glenn turned -almost like a serial killer.

“Hot water?” Glenn I pray to god you never do that again, or you may wind up being the victim of a headshot.

“That's what the man said.” T-Dog smiled toothily.

Dear lord that is terrifying.

I am either much drunker than I realize, or they have a side to them I hope to never be on the receiving end of again.

I slipped into the room I’d seen, and dropped my stuff on the ground before laying on the floor; claiming it as mine.

It has truly been a rough few days.

After staring at the ceiling for...I am honestly not sure how long, I pulled myself up with more difficulty than I care to admit, and dragged myself to the promised shower.

Actually getting in the shower was a bit hazy, but somehow I wound up standing(?) in the hot water, and I couldn’t think about anything else.

I never thought heated water could feel this amazing. Who knew, you could miss a warm shower so much.

I can't believe this time last year I was eating pizza in New York. God, I miss pizza…and ice cream— nachos, soft pretzels, bacon, strawberries. Damn, I think I’ve got the munchies.

That doesn’t usually happen when I drink though...It happened that...one time, after I accidentally agreed to take something from that one kid at the fourth house.

The buck teeth...weird hair, and green shirt. Sam something.

I got out of the shower, threw on the clothes I sleep in —some of my more comfortable— and wandered out of my room. I've regained my balance enough to walk semi-straight.

At least I think I'm walkin’ straight.

I wandered down the hall and waved drunkenly at Carol and the kids as they passed. They smiled back, not even trying to hide their giggles and I mock scowled at them, making the laughs more intense as they passed by and waved goodnight.

A few more steps and I was forced to stop by a wave of dizziness. Leaning against the wall for support, I took a moment to breathe deep.

Absent-mindedly dismissing what sounded like a raised voice, I began walking again but the second time, my curiosity was successfully captured.

A few seconds later it stopped and the door to my left slammed open.

Shane stormed out, completely passing by my presence like I wasn’t even here. For a second I panicked that I might be a ghost before I hit my elbow on the wall and the zing confirmed I’m not.

Unless I’m a poltergeist...

A startling noise drew me to peek into the room and stare at Lori leaning against what appeared to be a ping pong table; crying, desperately pushing her hair out of her face.

Staggering in, I found her shoulder and as soon as I touched it, she flinched. Then hugged me.

I don’t mind as much as I normally would have, she’s sorta helping me stay on my feet but it brought an unwelcome nostalgia with it.

“Shh” I rubbed her back. I didn’t mean to rock back and forth but it seems to be helping so I didn’t try to stop.

She cried for what felt like forever before beginning to calm down. She’d been clinging to me so tight, the leather from my jacket was crinkled and I’m (almost)sure their are fingernail dents.

I —tried— to walk with her back to her room, thankfully it's not too far from mine, but a sense of perhaps misplaced pride swelled through me for only stumbling here and there.

“Thank you. For everything.” she sniffled, giving me another hug. I hugged her back, smiling.

“Noo~ problemo. Any time” I can’t really tell if I just giggled but God I hope not.

I watched Lori go into her room before trying my best to walk straight but I kept drifting.

“Now I know why walkers walk so weird. They're all drunk.” I muttered to myself and unfortunately found it hilarious; laughing to myself like a lunatic.

“Shh, quiet” I shushed myself, as if I’m not alone.

I’m losin’ it, man.

By some means, I wound up sitting on the floor in the hallway. My back against the wall. Legs stretched out, knocking the tips of my toes together.

Did I leave my room...without my shoes?

Maybe I should just stay here. I'm probably not gonna sleep anyway.

“What're ya doin?”

I looked up and to see Daryl staring at me.

Sweet cream cheese pie— he is enormous from down here.

“I was walking...but I seem to have failed.” I answered, with a confirming nod, curling my top lip over my bottom and making a ‘pop’.

“My lips feel weird” I pulled at my bottom lip, trying to look at it.

“I've never heard ya talk so much.”

“What, what you talkin’ about...I talk a lot.” I defended. He scoffed.

“Yeah, yer a real chatterbox.” His voice dripped with sarcasm and if I wasn’t so intoxicated, I might’ve had a comeback for it, and at least a scowl or a laugh. A headshake.

“Come on. Get up.” Daryl stretched out his hands and helped me stand up.

Déjà  vu

“You're a nice person.” The words slipped out before I could stop them, not that I’m sober enough to anyway, and Daryl looked at me like I’d just told him I ate a cat and puked glitter.

“How much did ya drink?”

“Umm…” That’s a good question.

“3…4.... a lot. But— that doesn’t mean...i’ssss—not true.”

“Yer never allowed ta drink again”

I stumbled down the hall, using Daryl as a crutch. He was borderline carrying me until we reached my room. At least I think it’s mine, all these doors look the same but I trust Daryl handles his liquor better than I do.

Seeing as how he can actually, actually walk...and think.

When I finally got the door open, he helped me to the couch and I dropped like a sack of potatoes.

“I'm not tired” I rubbed my forehead with my hand and sat up.

“The Hell ya aren't. Go to sleep.” he commanded.

“Yes, sir.” I mock saluted and laughed at his expression. He rolled his eyes and pointed. Pursing my lips like a scolded child, I laid down and let my hands fall limp on my stomach.

After a few seconds my eyes had already closed of their own accord.

“Night, Eve” Daryl mumbled but I still caught it. At least my hearing doesn’t wane when I’m wasted.

“Night Daryl” I mused somnolently. I’m amazed I didn’t slur(That I know of) _ . _

I vaguely registered the door shut before I was out.

* * *

I awoke with a groan. Discovering I was on the floor, with my face pressed into the less than soft carpet but just comfortable -or tired- enough to not want to move.

A low moan outside the door and shuffling had me bolting straight up out of instinct, and my brain throbbed against my skull like I’d been hit with a brick after running a marathon.

I pulled my knife and made my way to the door, opening it like a monster in the closet from a horror movie, to peek out.

I saw Glenn shuffling down the hallway, shying away from the light like a vampire and relaxed. False alarm. He must have a killer hangover.

“Still on edge?”

I looked over to a smiling T-Dog coming out of his own room, and nodded. Soon regretting it as the throb moved to my temple and the base of my skull.

I think I cricked my neck last night.

I glanced at Glenn again. His eyes smooshed shut, wandering down the hallway blindly.

“What were you planning to do with that?” T-Dog nodded towards my hand. Following his eyes, I stared blankly at the spatula in my hand.

The fu-…Where’s my knife?

T-Dog must’ve noticed my confusion and chuckled. “Man, you must’ve gotten real hammered last night. Come on, let’s get some food.”

I nodded -although it wasn’t more than just blinking for a second longer than normal- and moseyed down the hall with T-Dog. My head pounding like the inside of a drum. At least it’s a slow beat.

Let’s hope that doesn’t change.

We wandered into the kitchen/dining/party room from last night and I dropped down at the table at the first open seat, laying my head on my arms and letting the spatula clatter onto the table.

Glenn winced but so did I. I didn’t expect it to be that loud.

People trickled in as the minutes past and T-Dog made breakfast, while Glenn moaned across from me about his hangover but I’m so exhausted I honestly couldn’t care less.

After a while most everyone was up and chatting about hangovers in one way or another, while I was very nearly asleep again.

When I finally brought my eyes up, Jenner had just walked into the room. Daryl following him a few seconds later.

Several greetings involving daytime were exchanged before Dale finally said something more original.

“Dr. Jenner I don't mean to slam you with questions first thing.”

“But you will anyway.” Jenner predicted like a moody teenager as he poured his coffee.

“We didn't come here for the eggs.” Andrea stated. Really? I did.

Jenner stared at us while he sipped his coffee before sighing and motioning for us to follow.

Do we have to do this now? Can it wait?

I nodded at Daryl when he looked at me, sort of our way of saying ‘Morning’ before standing up and trudging out next to him.


	16. 16

Jenner lead us to the big room from yesterday and turned on one of the computers.

“Give me playback of TS-19”

“Playback of TS-19” the disembodied Vi lit up a wall-sized screen in front, with what I assume is a video.

“Few people ever got a chance to see this. Very few” Jenner waited for the screen to finish loading everything.

“Is that a brain?” Carl asked as soon as the screen finished loading up the images.

“An extraordinary one” Jenner replied.

I’ll say, that brains lit up like Temple Square on New Year’s Eve.

“Not that it matters in the end...” Jenner trailed off, turning his attention back to the screen.

I studied the screen, skimming the text on the edges. I’ve always had a disturbingly steep learning curve; or so my high school teachers told me.

I’m not so sure their opinions can be trusted though. We didn’t interact one-on-one much.

“Take us in for EIV” Jenner directed.

I pulled myself up onto one of the desks, so I could sit for awhile. If I don’t, I might wind up on the floor. Again.

“Enhanced Internal view” Vi zoomed in on the brain, taking the camera angle to the side before zooming all the way in on the brain stem, down to the microscopic level where synapses were firing like bullets.

Damn, that’s a beautiful brain.

“What’re those lights?” Shane asked

Seriously? Did you not pass high school biology?

“It’s a person’s life” Jenner answered. Very philosophical, props man.

“Experiences, memories. It’s everything. Somewhere in all that organic wiring, all those ripples of light...is you. The thing that makes you unique...and human.” Jenner talks like a professor, lecturing. He’s not a half bad public speaker, and I wouldn’t mind so much any other day but my head's killing me.

“You don’t make sense? Ever?” Daryl shifted next to me.

“Those are synapses.” Jenner’s tone was a little degrading. Classic for a “nerd” when talking to someone they think is beneath their intelligence.

“Electric impulses in the brain that carry all the messages. They determine everything a person says, does, or thinks. From the moment of birth...to the moment of death.”

“Death?” Rick moved forward. “That’s what this is. A vigil?”

“Yes” Jenner seems to only be half paying attention.“Or ra— rather, the playback of the vigil”

What’s going on with him? I don’t think he drank as much as...some, of us. 

“This person died?” Andrea stepped forward, eyes fixed on the screen. “Who?”

“Test subject 19” Jenner answered. I glanced sideways at him, something about the way he answered that, feels a little odd.

“Someone who was bitten, and infected...and volunteered to have us, record the process...”

Did he know this person?

“Vi, scan forward to the first event” Jenner instructed.

“Scanning to first event ” Vi sped along until the screen changed and most of the brain stem was turning black. Little tingles of red running along the dark branches.

“What is that?” Glenn took the words right outta my head

“It invades the brain like meningitis” Jenner gestured at the screen.

The person started to have -what looks to me like- a seizure.

“The adrenal glands hemorrhage. The brain goes into shutdown and then the, major organs.” Jenner explained.

The person went still as all light faded from the brain, even the red ones from that black tree pattern in the brain stem. It seriously looks like ivy growing around and suffocating trees.

“Then death.” Jenner looked down

“Everything you ever were, or ever will be...gone”

I didn’t hear what Sophia said, but it was something about Jim. I glanced at the others, and both Andrea and Jacqui had tears running down their cheeks.

Jenner looked at Andrea when she inhaled, sniffling, and took a step back.

“She lost somebody two days ago, her…sister.” Lori clarified for him.

“I lost somebody too, I know how devastating it is” Jenner sympathized.

Who hasn’t lost someone nowadays? Hard to imagine anyone out there who hasn’t lost someone they cared about.

I glanced at my hands, before looking at Daryl. His arms are crossed over his chest, eyes trained on his boots. He’s gotta be thinking about Merle.

“Scan to the second event” Jenner pulled the attention of the room to the screen once again.

“Scanning to second event” Vi scanned forward just as before to the ‘second event’.

“The resurrection times vary wildly. We have reports of it happening in as little as 3 minutes. The longest we heard of was 8 hours. In the case of this patient it was, 2 hours, 1 minute...7 seconds...”

I was right. No one bothers to remember details that specific about someone they weren’t close to.

I watched as little red lights began sparking in the center of the dark root lookin’ part and spread outward until the body started moving again.

“It restarts the brain?” Lori asked incredulously.

“No, just the brain stem.” Jenner answered, before realizing most here didn’t know what that meant.

“Basically it gets them up, and moving.”

“But they’re not alive?” Rick asked almost like a statement.

“You tell me” Jenner motioned to the screen, moving behind Rick like a teacher asking a student to show the class how to solve the problem on the board.

“It’s nothin’ like before” Rick shook his head. “Most of that brain is dark”

“Dark, lifeless, dead” Thank you for those wonderful synonyms, Jenner.

“The frontal lobes, the neocortex— the human part, that doesn’t come back. The  you part.”

Most of that sentence was gibberish to everyone save for me here, doc. Thank God my science lab partner was a human physiology nut.

Come to think of it, she may have actually worked here. In school she never shut up about her dream job, to work at the CDC. I never doubted she would either, she was possibly the smartest person I’ve ever met. Science— viruses and the like in particular, were her thing.

“Just a shell...driven by, mindless instinct.”

Something appeared at the top corner of the video and for a second I thought it was something popping up before there was a bright flash on screen and a path carved through the middle of the brain like the Grand Canyon.

“God, what was that?” Carol asked.

It’s pretty obvious what that was, hun.

“He shot his patient in the head” Andrea answered. “Didn’t you?”

“Vi, power down the main screen and the work stations” Jenner walked around from the front row of computers to the middle row.

“You have no idea what it is, do you?” Andrea moved next to Rick, turning towards Jenner with an almost accusing tone.

“It could be microbial, viral, parasitic, fungal.”

You’re killin’ me here doc. You sound like your spitballing. At best. If you don’t know, say so. I’d rather that than listen to you lie to me— to us.

“Or the wrath of God?” Jacqui proposed.

“There is that” Jenner’s eyes directed to the floor once again. I’ve seen him do that a lot in the short time we’ve been here. I know depression when I see it. And I’m gonna take a wild guess, it has something to do with that person he lost.

“Somebody must know something. Somebody,  somewhere ” Andrea insisted.

I glanced at Daryl and moved closer to the group with him, leaning on another desk next to Carol and Sophia.

“There are others, right?” Carol asked. “Other facilities”

“There may be some” Jenner turned but he doesn’t sound hopeful. “People like me”

“But you don’t know, how can you not know?” Rick’s frustration reared.

“Everything went down. Communications, directives, all of it. I’ve been in the dark for almost a month.” Jenner answered almost timidly.

He was alone all this time?

Seeing the virus kill that person like this is strange but it’s not sad to me. Just pictures on a screen, but seeing the virus restart the brain stem, that was something.

It looked like a dead tree, catching fire but never becoming anything more than embers. 

“So it’s not just here? There’s nothing left anywhere. Nothing. That’s what you’re really saying right?” Andrea pressed.

Jenner stayed silent, looking very uncomfortable but from the look on his face, he knows the answer to that question. Just not willing to provide it. But his reluctance to answer, is answer enough.

“Jesus” Jacqui breathed.

“Man, I’m gonna get shit-faced drunk…again” Daryl walked past me, rubbing his eyes with his palms until he leaned against one of the other computers just as I have.

“Dr. Jenner I know this has been taxing for you, and I hate to ask one more question…but, that clock.” Dale walked past me and Daryl pointing; drawing our attention to a red digital clock on the far wall.

Has that always been there?

“It’s counting down. What happens at zero?” Dale gave Jenner that gaze he does when he wants a straight answer.

“The…basement generators— they run out of fuel.” Jenner headed for the door, the second he’d answered.

“And then?” Rick asked but Jenner didn’t even look at him.

Oh that does not inspire confidence. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

Generators without fuel means no power. So what’s so bad about having no power? Does that mean we’ll be stuck down here? Will the doors and things not open if there’s no power?

We could be...trapped, down here.


	17. 17

“‘ey, you okay?”

I looked at Daryl, who was staring at me.

I realized then, I was almost hyperventilating. My palms were sweating, and my mouth was bone dry.

“Vi, what happens when the power runs out?” Rick asked the disembodied computer.

_ “When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur.” _ It may have just been my imagination but her tone when she said that sounded like someone talking down to an idiot.

Rick looked around at everyone before he motioned to me, “Eve, Glenn, T-Dog, Shane you come with me. Everyone else, go back to your rooms.”

“What’re you doing?” Lori asked as I moved around her.

“We’re gonna find out what’s going on” Rick answered as we went past them, towards the door with a ‘stairwell’ sign above it.

I pushed the door open and slid down the railing, while they all took the steps, until I reached the bottom flight and waited for them to catch up.

“Decontamination. What does that mean?” Glenn’s question echoed off the walls with everyone’s footsteps as they reached me.

“I don’t like the way Jenner clammed up. The way he just wandered off like that” Shane walked past me to look at the map on the wall with Rick.

“What’s wrong with him? Seriously. Is he nuts, medicated, what?” T-Dog glanced between me and Glenn.

I’mma go with mentally unstable. He should be medicated.

Depression is a serious thing, and if Jenner’s not depressed I don’t know what could qualify.

“In there” Rick pointed behind me and I turned as he walked past me, to open a door I hadn’t seen.

I followed behind Glenn into what looks like a giant boiler room, but I’m gonna take a leap here and assume they’re generators.

“Check that way” Rick instructed. He and Shane went to the left and I motioned for Glenn and T to go right, while I took the center aisle.

I know this place is “safe” I have this nagging feeling something’s gonna jump out at me.

I hope -for their own sake- the others don’t get too close at the moment.

I went down my section, checking every drum I went past and after the first 6 were empty my stomach dropped. The further I went, the faster I went. Not even bothering to stop anymore, I just pushed the drums as I went passed and every single one of them gave little to no resistance.

There’s an alarming number of flammable warnings in here.

I jumped out of my skin when the lights suddenly turned off.

I don’t like this. Underground in the dark.

I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand and leaned against a fuel drum; Trying to steady my breathing. I don’t like this, I can’t— calm down, just breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. These buildings are designed to withstand tanks, not even a jumbo-jet crashing into the roof could bring this building down. I gripped the fuel drum tighter, focusing on the pressure in my fingers.

“Eve?!” Glenn’s voice startled me and I whacked my wrist on the drum, making a loud echo. Pain spiked through my nerves, all the way up to my elbow as if I’d hit my funny bone.

Son of a— I clutched my wrist, looking around. It’s too dark to see much but it’s not pitch black, at least.

I turned and whistled to let them know I heard, while I felt my way back down the aisle.

_ “Emergency lighting, on”  _ lights near the floor turned on and the second I could see again, I bolted to find them and get the Hell out of here. I should’ve known this wasn’t a good idea. Why did I come down here? What did I think was gonna happen? —I wasn’t thinking. That’s the problem. You don’t need 5 people to check a generator room. They would’ve been perfectly fine if I’d stayed up top.

Glenn and T-Dog came up next to me, jogging/running at my pace until we reached Rick and Shane.

“You guys kill the lights?” Glenn asked the two who were hunched over a fuel drum.

“Nah, it just went out” Shane answered

“Anything?” Rick asked

“Yeah, lot a dead generators and more  _ empty _ fuel drums than I can count” T-Dog answered. I shook my head when Rick looked at me, hoping no one had noticed my fidgeting in the dark.

“It can’t be down to just that one” Shane stared incredulously at the dial stuck at the E, on the final generator in front of us.

I can’t— I’ve gotta get outta here before I have a full blown panic attack. My anxious tapping foot sent me towards the the door and racing up the stairs before anyone could stop me.

The guys were on my heels all the way to the top. I guess I’m not the only one with issues about the creepy basement after all.

We reached the top of the stairs and not ten seconds after we got out of the stairwell, Lori called for her husband.

We linked up with everyone who was following Jenner back to the big room while Rick was at the front, confronting Jenner for some answers.

“What’d you find down there?” Daryl fell into step next to me, looking over me with his eyebrows knit together.

“Time running out” I shook my head, in an attempt to distract from my current...state.

We reached the platform with all the computers and Jenner stopped at the steps to take a drink from a bottle before he handed it to Daryl.

Daryl took it spitefully, spilling most of what little was left, in the reckless gesture.

“It was the French.” Jenner looked at Andrea.

“What?” she stepped forward.

“They were the last to hold out as far as I know. While our people were bolting out the doors, and committing suicide in the hallways, they stayed in the labs till the end.”

“They thought they were close to a solution.” Jenner climbed the 4 steps.

“What happened?” Jacqui asked and Jenner stopped, turning.

“Same thing that’s happening here. No power grid. Ran out of juice.” Jenner went to walk but did a double take.

“The world runs on fossil fuel. I mean, how stupid is that?” Jenner walked to a computer on the far side of the platform.

“Let me tell you somethin’—” Shane went to go after him but Rick stopped him.

“To Hell with this Shane, I don’t even care. Lori” Rick looked back at us, “Grab our things, everybody get your stuff, we’re getting out of here NOW!” Rick shouted, making most everyone flinch and head for the door.

An alarm began to blare before anyone got 10 feet and a big clock appeared on the giant screen.

_ “30 minutes to decontamination” _

“Doc what’s goin’ on here, doc?” T-Dog yelled over the alarm.

“Everybody, y’all heard Rick, get your stuff. Let’s go now!” Shane got everyone back on task.

“Did you just lock us in? He just locked us in!” Glenn shouted. Daryl barrelled past me back towards Jenner and I jolted forward out of reflex, trying to stop him before he got there but damn this man can move when he’s motivated.

“Shane! SHANE!” Rick shouted

Shane caught Daryl, just before I did and T-Dog jumped in to help as soon as we had hold of him.

I pryed Daryl’s grip from the back of Jenner’s lab coat while Shane pulled Daryl back, and T-Dog helped keep him there.

It wasn’t easy to stop Daryl from smashing that empty bottle over Jenner’s head but as soon as I got the bottle from him, he calmed considerably.

How blitzed is he? He wasn’t even like this back at camp when we found out Jim—...

Rick stalked towards Jenner, “Jenner, open that door now.”

“There’s no point. Everything top side is locked down, the emergency exits are sealed” Jenner refused

“Well open the damn things” Dale argued

“That’s not something I control; the computers do” Jenner shook his head. “I told you, once that front door closed it wouldn’t open again. You heard me say that.”

Everyone fell silent but it wasn’t a good, or tolerable, silence. The panic was tangible. Pants mingling with fear and adrenaline in the tense atmosphere was almost suffocating.

“It’s better this way.” Jenner stated, with a twinge of unease.

“What is? What happens in 28 minutes?” Rick demanded.

Jenner shied away from his gaze, turning his attention to the computer in front of him instead.

Shane slammed his hand on the desk, making Jenner jump and Rick yelled, “What happens in 28 minutes!?”

“You know what this place is!?” Jenner shouted in Rick’s face before I could even register his standing.

“We protected the public from very,  _ nasty STUFF! _ ” he yelled in Shane’s face.

“Weaponized smallpox!” he turned, looking at the rest of us.

“Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don’t want getting out!  _ EVER! _ ” Jenner yelled.

Jenner sat down, composing himself again.

“In the event of a catastrophic power failure, in a terrorist attack for example. HIT’s are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out.”

I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to wrap my head around what he was saying.

“HIT’s?” Rick asked

“Vi, define” Jenner commanded.

“ _ HIT fuel air explosives consist of a two stage arousal ignition that produces a blast way of significantly greater power and duration than any other known explosive except nuclear. The vacuum pressure affected ignites the oxygen between 5,000 and 6,000 degrees where the greatest damage to structures and loss of life is desired _ ”

Oh God

“Sets the air on fire” Jenner clarified grimly

I looked around at everyone’s faces. Carol and the kids crying, everyone in a state of shock. I didn’t notice I had grabbed Daryl’s shirt until he looked at me.

My hands were shaking so bad I couldn’t stop them, even if I wanted to.

“No pain” Jenner muttered. “An end to sorrow, grief…regret”

Jenner looked at Rick, “Everything”

I took a rushed breath and forced my hand to let go of Daryl’s shirt and not seconds after I did, Daryl took the bottle from my hand and threw it as hard as he could at the titanium door, keeping us trapped.

I walked down the platform, gripping the metal railing until my knuckles were well past white; Trying to pull my head together but failing.

My worst nightmares coming true. I knew my life wouldn’t end well and I’ve known my entire life, life is one cruel twist of fate after another but I never imagined it would be like this.

Burned and buried alive…

Daryl and Shane started hacking at the door with fire axes but it was barely even making sparks.

There’s gotta be a way out— there’s always a way out. Always...

Everything around me started fading. The edges of my vision going black, and I couldn’t hear anything anymore. I was going numb. All the voices, the arguments, the struggling, the mania, all of it was drowning in the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears.

I was jolted from shut down when Daryl shouted, “Well your head ain’t!” and I looked up just in time to see him ready to bring that axe down on Jenner’s skull and 4 others were struggling to stop him.

They managed to push Daryl away and he backed off, circling like a shark at the back, when he looked at me and stopped mid-step for a second.

He’s giving me that ‘u good?’ look.

I grit my teeth and let go of the railing, squeezing my fists at my sides and nodded; moving closer to the group.

I don’t know how or why that of all things worked but it was the wake up call I needed, and I’m not about to question it right now.


	18. Chapter 18

My chest was painfully tight, as though my heart was trying it’s damnedest to pull my ribcage in and wrap the bones around itself so tight it could no longer beat.

At first it felt like I was caving in, falling through a black hole with no end that had opened up inside me but now...

I stood still, staring at Rick and Jenner but in truth I can’t see anything. Even if I am looking at them, it’s like I’m outside myself; watching my life as if it were a movie.

I can still feel myself shaking but nothing was working to stop it. The cold sweat on my neck ran down my spine, provoking a shiver. I know I’m breathing just fine but I feel like I’m suffocating.

Blood pulsed in my ears, putting a filter over everything I was hearing. Nothing was making it to my brain, and that only worsened the panic attack I’d tried to prevent.

“There is no hope. There never was”

What

I sobered up in single moment. Jenner’s words sending ice through my veins, and bringing me crashing back into my body.

“There’s always hope. Maybe it won’t be you, maybe not here. But somebody somewhere—”

“What part of everything’s gone, do you not understand?” Andrea snapped from her curled up position on the floor.

“Listen to your friend, she gets it. This is what takes us down. This is...our extinction event.” Jenner sat back down.

How can you be so sure? Humans are the most resilient creatures on the planet. We’re the smartest, most ingenuitive.

Extinct means there’s not even 1 left. We, us right here, mean the human race is not extinct. Species have made comebacks from near extinction for centuries; coming back from as few as 10.

Hell, this isn’t even the first time humans have walked this line. And we’ve gotten way closer to the fire than this.

“This isn’t right. You can’t just keep us here.” Carol argued.

“One tiny moment— a-a milisecond. No pain.” Jenner leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“My daughter doesn’t deserve to die like  _ this _ .” Carol cried. As opposed to what? Getting torn apart?

There aren’t many who deserve to die so horribly. It’s unfortunate we’re here instead of them.

Shane stormed past me

“Wouldn’t it be kinder, more compassionate to just hold your loved ones and wait for the clock to run down?” you’re rationalizing Jenner. 

I disagree. That may be for some, but everyone deserves a choice. A chance to make their own decision.

A gun cocked behind me and I turned just as Shane walked past me his shotgun in hand, with a look that sent me reeling back to the past.

“Shane! No!” Rick tried to stop him

“Out of the way, Rick. Stay outta my way!” Shane shoved him away, into Dale.

“‘Ey!” My back hit something but even knowing it was Daryl I’d backed into, my feet didn’t stop until I’d hit the railing behind me.

The murderous eyes of that man burrowing into me from the bottom of a dark staircase, as I watched Shane put Jenner at the end of his barrel.

“Open that door. Or Imma blow your head off, do you hear me?!” Shane screamed at Jenner.

“Brother, brother, this is not the way. You do this, we’ll never get out of here” Rick tried to reason with him.

“Shane, you listen to him.” Lori backed up her husband.

“The Hell’s the matter with you?” Daryl kept his voice low as he moved in front of me, only taking his eyes off those two for a second to glance at me.

After all these years, I didn’t know those eyes could still affect me.

“Ey, snap out of it.” Daryl elbowed me in the arm, and my reflex was to grab his arm and move to flip him but Shane started screaming and a shotgun blast stopped me in my tracks.

Everything erased from the surface of my mind, except for Shane emptying his shotgun into the computers on the far side of the room. My hands were on my thighs, searching for my knives but they weren’t there, none of my gear was.

Everyone close dropped except for Rick, while the rest of us -Daryl and myself included- stepped back.

I watched Rick take his chance to grab the gun and wrestle Shane for it. The shotgun went off during their struggle and took out a ceiling light before Rick clocked him in the face, then again in the chest with the butt of the gun, knocking Shane to the ground.

“Are you done now? Are you done?” Rick stood over Shane, with the gun ready to hit him with it again if need be.

“Yeah I guess we all are” Shane didn’t miss a beat.

Those who’d gone to ground, stood back up and I looked at Daryl, who also glanced at me.

I don’t know what I was expecting but it felt like the right thing to do at the moment.

Panting filled the room as Rick straightened and turned to look over the rest of us.

He made eye contact with me and I glanced around and nodded. Remarkably, I think everyone’s okay.

He gave the shotgun to T-Dog before looking at everyone individually.

No one said anything, either out of shock or fear, or both. There’s no way to tell which.

A shine drew my attention to the hatchet I hadn’t noticed Daryl still had in his hand before Rick’s voice drew me back up front.

“I think you’re lying.”

“What?” Jenner looked at him

“You’re lying. About no hope.” Rick panted.

“If that were true, you’d have bolted with the rest or taken the easy way out. You didn’t.”

“You chose the hard path. Why?” Oh I know that voice, what’re you getting at, Officer.

“It doesn’t matter” Jenner shook his head.

“It does matter. It always matters.” Rick scoffed and moved forward, leaning down to be eye level with Jenner.

“You stayed when others ran. Why?”

“Not. because. I wanted to.” Jenner scowled in Rick’s face.

“I made a promise...” Jenner stood, Rick straightening with him. “To her.” Jenner pointed at the screen. “My wife.”

“Test subject 19 was your wife?” Lori asked but it came out more like a statement.

So I was right.

Daryl knocked his elbow against mine only this time my head’s on straight again so I didn’t grab him like I did a minute ago.

He started walking towards the metal door and I followed him halfway up the ramp, while he started whacking at it with the hatchet again.

Fat lotta good that’s gonna do, but I keep forgetting I’m not the only one anxious about being stuck— down here.

I watched Daryl hack at the door, somehow it sets my nerves at ease enough to let me think but I didn’t have to think for long, the door opened not 3 minutes after he started.

“Come on!” Daryl called, motioning to others when I was already moving.

I took off down the hallway after him and went straight to my room, snatching my backpack and gear belt as fast as I could.

I bolted out of the room, meeting up with others in the hallway as I got my belt on, before I ripped the door to the stairs open, holding it while everyone rushed passed me and taking the opportunity to secure my thigh sheaths.

When there was no one else coming down the hallway, I flew up the stone steps, taking them two at a time but by the time I got to the top of the steps, I saw daylight and T-Dog was trying to break a window with a chair but it wasn’t so much as scratching it.

“Dog, get down! Get down!” Shane went over with his shotgun

Shane blasted it with his shotgun and not even that worked, it didn’t even crack, the fragments just lodged in the glass.

“Jesus”

“The glass won’t break?” Sophia looked up at me.

I’m not even sure it is glass.

“Rick. I have something that might help” Carol went up to Rick, ruffling through her bag.

“Carol I don’t think a nail file’s gonna do it” Shane offensively commented. I sent a fleeting glare at him before helping Sophia stand up and watching Carol pull a grenade out of her bag, holding it out to Rick.

I grabbed Glenn and ran towards the stairs, pulling him and Sophia both to take cover, Carol following us and everyone else doing the same.

Daryl dropped next to me just before Rick came running towards us.

I forced Glenn’s forehead to the floor, covering the back of my own head with my other hand as the blast went off.

I turned over and watched shards of glass drop from the window frame.

It worked…

“Eve, you first, take out those two walkers!” Rick instructed.

I ran to the window, pulling my knives from their sheaths and the second I made the 4 foot drop, I sank one into the skull of the walker next to me and threw the other into the forehead of the one I’d drawn the attention of.

I retrieved my knife just as Daryl came up next to me, followed by the others.

I sheathed my knives while he, Shane, and Rick were now down and taking out the walkers in our path and helped Carol, the kids, and Lori out before running as fast as I could to the cars.

I killed two more walkers as I caught up with Daryl, not slowing down even for a second until we reached the truck.

I pulled the door open and tossed my backpack on the floor at the same time as Daryl and as soon as I slid into the seat, I pulled my door shut.

I never thought it’d be bad to be so in-sync with someone until we both ducked down at the same time and whacked our temples together on the seat.

Daryl groaned and I hissed but a throb in the temple was the least of our worries as the blast wave hit; leaving my ears ringing.

Every time I thought it was done, there was another explosion. One blast after another. The ground shook like an earthquake. The heat was intense and I could feel it on my skin as if I’d been walking around Florida all day without sunscreen but it was gone in seconds.

Now I know what it’s like— was like to be in a warzone.

We stayed down for another few seconds before I put my hand on the dash and carefully pulled myself up until I could see out the window before sitting up fully.

Oh my God...

My jaw was slack, staring at the scorched, blazing rubble of the building we were inside not five minutes ago.

I glanced at Daryl just as he glanced out the back windshield. I glanced back to see Shane was alright in his jeep behind us.

Turning back to the front, I spotted Dale and Andrea running for the RV and Glenn swung the door open shouting for them to get in.

Jesus, I can hear the fire from here. Rumbling like some hungry monster.

The caravan started moving out and I stared at the pure destruction as we drove passed it.

The black smoke cascaded into the sky several hundred feet, the flames were as high as some of Atlanta’s smaller skyscrapers and I could feel the intense heat on my face from almost 100 yards, even as we drove away.

* * *

It was quiet until the caravan stopped a few miles away to collect new supplies, trade out cars, find fuel, etc.

Daryl traded the truck for his brother’s motorcycle, seeing as it’ll use less fuel. The downside being that it’s louder, but another upside being that it can fit places the cars can’t.

We gave up several cars for 2. Just the Cherokee, the RV, and the motorcycle.

Most everyone was crammed into the RV and Carol’s Cherokee but I rode with Daryl.

God knows, I could use the open space and fresh air right now. IF my sanity is to recover.

I’m glad I didn’t have to ask for the ride. Daryl just assumed I was riding with him.

It’s not the most comfortable because it’s not meant to be a two person bike but it sure beats being packed like a sardine into one of the cars.

I watched the city get smaller over my shoulder as we headed away from what we know.

I really hope this doesn’t turn out to be jumping into the deep end without knowing how to swim.


	19. Chapter 19

I looked back over my shoulder at the caravan and my hair whipped me in the face for the thousandth time.

Oh that is it.

Grabbing it, I threw it out of my face so roughly it felt like I may have pulled some of it out.

I gathered my hair up, smoothing it back to pull into a ponytail so it would stop this incessant whipping. My cheeks are stinging. I never thought I could be scratched by own hair before but apparently it’s more than possible.

I turned my head so I wouldn’t elbow Daryl, and pulled the elastic, looping my hair through until I was satisfied but while I had my hands up, we hit a bump.

I didn’t even feel myself falling before I was grabbing Daryl’s shoulders.

He started, and I caught his questioning eye in the side mirror. I gave a sheepish apologetic look before his eyes were back on the road and mine moved to the RV in the mirror.

Are they...?

I looked over my shoulder and my mouth made an ‘O’. They are, those little shits.

I watched Glenn and Dale laughing at me through the windshield. Glenn’s face is turning red, why that little— 

I stuck out my tongue and flipped them both off despite a smile creeping at the corners of my own lips and they just laughed harder.

Oh I will remember this, you oompa-loompas. You best watch your backs.

Turning forward again, my hand found Daryl’s shoulder once more and it occurred to me how...comfortable he is. Comfortable may be the wrong word, but as far as I can tell he’s not uncomfortable.

I’ve known Daryl for a significant time now, and considering how he is with people standing too close to him, I’m surprised he’s alright with my touching him. Even if I don’t really have much of a choice.

It’s not like we haven’t touched before, but it’s mostly brief and small like bumping elbows or shoulders. The longest we’ve ever made physical contact -that I remember- I believe was when I was so drunk I was staggering like a walker.

I don’t remember exactly how that went down, but I do remember most of it. I think.

I kept my grip loose, not wanting to make it awkward, or seem like I was invading his space but I do admit to adjusting my strength every so often; just to see how he would react.

Sometimes I let my curiosity get ahead of me, but when am I gonna get another chance like this? This might be my only chance to see just how much rapport we have at the moment.

We’ve been through alot together, all of us, but it’s no secret there are only a handful of people Daryl seems to trust -even on a rudimentary level.

I don’t know what I expected from this “experiment” but what I found was interesting. My grip could get steadily tighter over a few minutes and Daryl only glanced at me if my knuckles started to pale. If my grip got suddenly tighter, he glanced almost immediately, actually looking over his shoulder once; I think I pinched a nerve in his shoulder that time though. But what was really surprising was if my grip got too loose, the look he gave me in that mirror could almost be considered a glare. I’m a little afraid to know what he’d do if I let go now.

I don’t think I’m gonna test it. He might already be on to me. Those last few looks seemed a little weird. And now my fingers are actually starting to cramp.

The CDC’s a loooong way behind us. We’ve been driving through the countryside for longer than my attention span can handle. Fresh air is great and all, but my nose is really cold now, and even my shoulders have tightened up.

Sitting on the back of a motorcycle isn’t the most comfortable to begin with but this bike wasn’t built for two in the first place. Plus his crossbows bolts have been stabbing me in the thigh every time we hit a bump for the last 10 miles.

Still, it could be worse. There have been fewer and fewer walkers the farther we’ve gotten from the city. There’s almost none in the stretches between towns.

It’s surprising how few cars are on the roads out here. I’ve seen maybe 4 since we past the last exit to a close town.

Oh, make that five.

I watched the white Subaru pass as we drove by.

Six— seven. Seven since the last town. Eight, no. One, two, three...14.

What the…

I scanned the road in front of us, moving to the side a bit so I could see around Daryl.

Of course things could never go so smoothly for us. Don’t know what came over me, thinking things would get even just a smidge easier outside the city.

I stared in frustration at the road -or rather the traffic jam- ahead of us.

Daryl’s speed dropped under 30, as he maneuvered between the cars.

The further we got in the more cars I saw piled up in our way. Ah geez.

I turned and motioned for Dale to stop over my shoulder, just before Daryl headed for a gap only a bike could fit through, there’s a larger space on the other side of the truck but I assume he plans to circle around.

We moved slow through the cars, searching for a way through but I can’t see clearly from here, so I found two footholds on the bike that won’t melt my boots or break anything and stood up.

“What’re you doin?” Daryl glanced over his shoulder before glancing up, then back at the road.

Haven’t you ever heard of bird’s eye view, Daryl?

I looked around from my new vantage point, using Daryl’s shoulders to stabilize myself and allowing my knees to bend and absorb shock with the bike’s movement.

Not the safest thing in the world but a lot better than getting off and going through here on foot. Who knows what could be hiding behind these cars.

It’s weird though, I don’t see any walkers. All these cars and not a single walker...It puts me on edge.

“See anythin’?” Daryl asked, avoiding debris on the asphalt.

A gap big enough for the RV caught my vision and I tapped Daryl’s shoulder, pointing.

He nodded and I sat back down as he began to circle back.

Coming up along the driver side of the RV, Daryl stopped as Dale leaned out the window.

“See a way through?”

I nodded and Daryl jerked his head to let Dale know to follow. He circled the RV and got back in front, following the same path we did before, aside from opting to take the larger gaps this time.

The first time through wasn’t so bad but this is making my skin crawl now. I’m even more anxious going through a second time, even though we cleared it, because if we somehow missed something huge, we can’t just zip outta here.

We’ll be trapped between the RV and this sea of abandon cars, and we don’t have a lot of protection from whatever— 

A loud pop behind us made me jump and snap my head to the side, looking over my shoulder to find out what was going on.

Smoke spewed out of the front of the RV, while the engine sputtered. The RV stopped and Daryl drifted forward a few feet before stopping as well and turning off the motorcycle.

My foot touched the ground and I swung my leg over, standing up. The asphalt felt weird under my boots after riding for so long.

My legs feel almost numb, like they’re still vibrating from the engine but at least I can finally stretch; and stretch I did.

I linked my fingers and pulled my arms all the way up and as far back as I could without falling over.

The deep muscle in my shoulders stretched, relieving the tension, and the sore stiffness just melted away. Running down to restore feeling into my legs.

Releasing my fingers, I rolled my shoulders and stretched my arms individually before grabbing my backpack and heading back towards the RV.

“Okay, that was dumb.” Dale looked around, while I pulled my arms through the bag straps.

Daryl caught up to me a second later and as soon as I stopped, he started digging through the back of an open car.

“Can’t find a radiator hose here” Shane looked around. I’m not sure if that was supposed to be sarcastic or not.

“There’s a whole buncha stuff we could find.” Daryl dug through a bag he found in the trunk.

“Syphon more fuel from these cars for a start.” T-Dog walked past me and I turned to follow over to another car just next to Daryl.

“Maybe some water” Carol suggested hopefully. Water should be our priority in terms of resource gathering, but fuel is equally as valuable now— maybe even more so.

“Food” Glenn chimed in.

I pulled a golf club out of the backseat of the car and swung it at a rock, sending the pebble sailing into the forest, just yards from the edge of the road.

“This is a graveyard.” I looked at Lori who looks like she’s gonna be sick.

“I don’t know how I feel about this.”

I looked at Daryl and seems like we’re thinkin’ the same thing: Is she serious?

This could be a gold mine, a damn buffet. And it’s not like these people need this stuff anymore. No one’s gonna miss it and we need it.

I get why this may not sit well, I do, but morality takes a backseat to survival. It has to, or there won’t be anyone left to distinguish the difference.

“Alright people, look around. Gather what you can.” Shane instructed. At least he has some common sense left.

I shrugged it off, not wanting to hold anything against her. She’s had the cosiest -before- life of most everyone here. In fact, most of us from what I understand, don’t have the luxury to think about death as sorrowful. Before or now.

Some of us, I glanced back at Daryl, might be better prepared for this world than others; but in truth, we could benefit from some to remind us there is a difference. And where the line is.

I glanced at Lori, and Dale. Glenn, Rick. I don’t understand how through all of this, their moral compasses have remained on the right track but I’d be lying if I said I don’t envy it.

I went to do what I do best; wander off to find something interesting, useful, or preferably both.

Survival has always come before morality for me but I don’t believe I’ve strayed. If I have, I don’t remember.

All I can do, I guess is...keep going and hope my compass still points north.

I wandered a lot further than everyone else, peeking into cars until I found one that caught my attention. There are bodies in some of them and I tapped on a few of the windows but they’re not walkers. Just dead.

I’m supposed to be searching through cars like the others but I’m doing a walker check first. I’d rather no surprises, or at the very least an advanced warning.

I crouched down next to a car and pulled out my tool pack from my bag.

I can probably jiggle this one open. I can’t remember the last time I did unlocked a car though. It must’ve been...I don’t know, high school?

I chose my picks and slid them into the keyhole. It took a minute or two but the door unlocked and I opened it.

Footsteps caught my ear and I pulled my knife. My eyes caught on Daryl and T-Dog who were looking at me strangely.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” T-Dog stared at me. I glanced down at the lock picks in my hand before smiling and waving my hand as nonchalant as possible.

“Damn, you just full’a surprises, ain’t you?” T-Dog shifted.

I think it best if I don’t share that particular experience. I wonder what happened to that kid. He got transferred after he was arrested for the third time.

He told me to keep practising and I’d get it eventually -which I did- but damn maybe he was right about keeping my skill sharp. You really never do know when picking a lock will come in handy.

Daryl busted open a car’s gas cap with a crowbar, jolting me back to the present and T-Dog began syphoning fuel from the car.

I reached into the back and opened the back door of the car I’d chosen and grabbed the bag off the backseat; the bag responsible for my getting into the car in the first place.

Daryl walked past me and went to another car while I dug through this one.

The bag had been what I was after but there was nothing useful in it. And I had such high hopes for this bad boy.

I moved to the driver’s seat and reached over to the glove box, to test my luck.

It seems luck is being suspiciously gracious to me today.

I pulled the compass out and whipped the dust off the face with my thumb. Pursing my lips I produced a low whistle.

I held the compass up eye level. Shiny. Somebody doesn’t— didn’t skimp on the survival gear. This is the nicest compass I’ve ever seen.

T-Dog grabbed my leg but he was covered in blood and I jolted, ready to bash his face in with this damn compass.

“We gotta go”

He pulled me out of the car but while I was checking our 6, T-Dog was already ahead of me.

I went after him, trying to figure out what the Hell was going on and a walker stumbled out right in front of me.

It was facing the other way, so it didn’t see me as I veered right and ducked behind a truck.

I moved towards the back of the end of the truck so I could see around it and walkers were everywhere, stumbling right past me. I must be downwind if they haven’t noticed me when we’re this close.

Cautiously, I slipped under the guardrail behind me and slid down the small hill as quiet as I could manage. I made it to the bottom, quick scanning the treeline before I ducked into the forest.

That was too close. Where did T-Dog go— I swear to God T if you’re not okay, I’ll kill you myself. That goes for you too Daryl. Wherever you are.

Watching the walkers trudge along the road from the treeline was nerve-wracking. Every second I wanted to run through the forest alongside them and find out where T-Dog ran to and if he was okay. Where Daryl was, and the others too but that’s a surefire way to get myself killed. Then I’m no good to anyone, so I waited out of sight until I hadn’t seen one in several minutes.

Careful in slipping out of the forest and back up to the road, I made my way back towards the RV, without so much as a sound; looking for anyone, listening to every sound to indicate where someone might be— especially if they’re in trouble.

When I got back to the RV, relief dropped my shoulders from their tense state. Everyone was back there.

Daryl spotted me coming up and motioned for me to follow him. Most of the others looked towards me and relief flashed through their faces.

I didn’t consider they may have been just as worried about me as I was about them.

I jumped the guardrail as Glenn, Shane, Rick, and Daryl were headed into the forest and I slid down the grassy hill, catching up. I jogged up next to them and fell into step beside Daryl.

What’s goin on? What are we doing venturing off into the forest, just the five of us?


	20. Chapter 20

“You sure this is the spot?” Daryl asked Rick, looking under a fallen tree in the creek bed Rick’s lead us to.

“I left her right here.” Rick stated.

“I drew the walkers way off in that direction up the creek.” he motioned, before bracing his hands on his knees.

“Without a paddle— seems where we’ve landed.” the water lapped at the back of my legs as Daryl moved behind me, looking off into the forest.

How did this happen? How did we let this happen? Why did you run for the forest, Sophia?

6 people less than 50 feet from her, she was right smack in the middle of the majority of the group and she still gets chased into the forest.

It took us longer to get out here than expected. She could be getting farther and farther away every second we waste.

The water swished around my calves as I moved, keeping a sharp look out of the other side of the creek, so Daryl and Rick can focus on tracking.

I chewed on my lip, tightening and loosening my grip on my knives as I scanned the treeline; every small movement I caught having two separate reactions. One, hope that it’s Sophia. The other, dread that it’s a walker.

Shane and Glenn are up on the bank, keeping watch from the way we came.

It’s almost unsettling how quiet it is out here after what’s happened in the last hour alone. Even more so with how dangerous these woods are. I wouldn’t have expected them to be so infested with walkers but the numbers are dwindling every minute. Like they’re deserting the area.

If only that were true. Although any place where not even walker’s would stick around, I’m not sure I’d like to be at the center of.

“She was gone by the time I got back here.” Rick’s boots swished the water around and splashed the back of my legs as he came up next to me.

“I figured she just took off and ran back to the group. I told her, go that way. And keep the sun on her left shoulder.” I glanced over my shoulder to see where he was pointing; almost directly at Glenn.

I took a couple steps back towards them as Daryl went over to the bank.

“Hey, short round, why don’t you step off to one side? You’re muckin’ up the trail”

“Assumin’ she knows her left from her right.” Shane chimed in.

“Shane, she understood me fine.” Rick went on the defensive.

I stepped back again and put my hand on Rick’s shoulder.

I know you feel this is your fault, Rick, but fighting won’t help us find her. She doesn’t need that right now, she needs us to work together.

“Kid’s tired and scared, man. She had her a close call with two walkers. Gotta wonder how much of what ya said, stuck.”

“Got clear prints right here. She did like you said, headed back to the highway.” Daryl spoke up before this could turn into a full blown argument.

“Let’s spread out, make our way back.” Daryl reached up, taking Shane’s outstretched hand.

“She couldn’t have gotten far.” Shane helped him up out of the creek.

My boots splashed in the water as I went over and Daryl held out his hand for me, helping me up the 4 foot muddy ledge before he took point.

“Hey, we gonna find her. She’ll be tuckered out, hidin’ in a bush somewhere.” Shane helped Rick behind me as we started moving again.

* * *

I kept a lookout for walkers with Glenn just behind Daryl so he could focus on tracking, while Shane and Rick watched our 6.

It feels a little strange, watching the front and them watching the back. It’s like our roles have reversed.

How is it though, that between every one of us, Daryl is the only one who can actually track? How is that possible?

This is Georgia for cripes sake. We have a total of 1 person who has this skill?

Daryl crouched in front of me, leaning on his crossbow.

“She was doin’ just fine till right here. All she had to do was keep goin’” he looked up, following some invisible line the rest of us can’t see. At least, I hope I’m not the only one who can’t see it.

“She veered off that way” he pointed into the trees.

“Why would she do that?” I glanced over my shoulder at Glenn.

I love you Glenn, but sometimes you can be pretty thick.

“Maybe she saw something, spooked her, made her run off.” Shane suggested, crouching next to Daryl.

“Walker?” Glenn asked, gripping his/Shane’s shotgun a little tighter and moving half a step closer to Rick.

“I don’ see any other footprints. Just hers” Daryl shook his head, not taking his eyes off the dirt.

I looked around, doing a sweep of the woods around us again. I don’t know whether or not I should be relieved or worried that we haven’t seen any walkers since we left the highway, but it’s becoming a nauseating mix of both in my gut.

“So what do we do? All of us press on?” Shane looked to Rick.

“No, better if you, Glenn, and Eve get back up to the highway. People are gonna start panicking.”

Shane stood up, giving Rick his full attention.

“Let them know we’re on her trail doing everything we can. But most of all, keep everybody calm.” Rick emphasized with his hand.

“I’ll keep ‘em busy scavenging cars. Think up a few other chores. I’ll keep ‘em occupied.” Shane reassured, before looking at me and Glenn and mumbling “Come on”

I looked down at Daryl as Glenn moved past us, and gave him a ‘be careful’ look. Last thing we need is our only tracker doing something stupid. We can’t afford to lose Sophia, Daryl, and Rick all in the same day. Let alone hours apart.

Daryl nodded as he stood up, giving me almost an identical look before I started after Glenn and Shane, and we split up. Him and Rick through the trees after the trail, and me & the other two back to the highway.

* * *

As soon as we got back, Shane started giving out chores.

Carol was stood at the guard rail and didn’t look too thrilled when we came back but Shane was quick to tell her, almost word for word what Rick told him to say.

She looked a little less anxious after hearing Daryl and Rick were still out there, and I don’t blame her. If anyone can find Sophia and bring her back safely, it’s those two.

Shane recruited Andrea, T, and Glenn to help move cars off the road; clearing enough space so the RV will be able to flip a Ue.

I opted for continuing the search through cars with Lori. I can’t handle any task right now that’ll let my mind wander. I’ll end up in places I shouldn’t, and can’t afford to be in.

I pulled myself up into the bed of a truck not too far from where Daryl’s motorcycle is parked, and started digging through the stuff in the back.

Lori chose a car right behind it, and after glancing at her, I don’t think it’s for resource purposes.

“Carl”

The boy turned at his mother’s voice, halting in his attempt to wander to a car on the other side of the one she was about to raid.

“I want you to stay where I or Eve can see you, okay? I don’t want you leaving either of our sides.”

I can’t blame her for wanting to stick close after the day we’ve had. In all honesty, it’s wise for Carl to be glued to someone’s hip for awhile.

“Yes, mom.”

Well this truck’s a dud. There’s nothing but a couple of melted sticks of gum, torn garbage bags, and twigs.

I jumped out of the bed and moved on to the next car, staying close to Lori. Carl stuck closer to me, seeing as how I was going farther out than he was being “allowed” to.

However it doesn’t take a psychologist to see how nervous Lori got when I went just a little too far, so I opted for a closer car instead of the truck I’d been tracking towards.

I ruffled Carl’s hair as I walked past him, making him swat at my hands but it’s the first time I’ve seen him smile since the walker power-walk marathon that blew through here earlier.

Just as I got the door open, Lori came up to the bumper.

“Eve, Carl, could you come help me with these?”

I nodded and closed the door, following Carl and his mother back to a hood where she’d piled supplies into crates.

Son of the Riddler, where did she find all this? There must be 6 crates here.

Am I just bad at picking cars?

Lori stacked a crate on top of another and handed them to me carefully. They aren’t heavy but heavier than I thought they’d be. I waited until Carl and she both had their hands full too before weaving between cars, heading back towards the RV.

When we got back, I set the crates down in the large space the other’s have managed to clear; just opposite of where Dale’s working on the RV engine.

I watched as Andrea and Shane used the Cherokee to move a red Sudan off the road, into the ditch between the highways. It hit another car’s bumper with a loud grating of metal, triggering my instinct look around and make sure it wasn’t heard by anything.

I’m not liking this location so much. It’s too exposed, we’ve already been attacked here once. As far as I’m concerned it’s proved how dangerous it is to be here, more than enough.

I don’t fancy the idea of being here any longer than we need to.

“Why aren’t we all out there looking? Why are we moving cars?” I looked over at Carol, next to the RV.

When did she leave the guard rail?

“We have to clear enough room so I can get the RV turned around as soon as it’s running.” Dale answered. “Now that we have fuel, we can double-back to a bypass that Glenn flagged on the map.”

“Going back’s gonna be easier than tryna get through this mess.” Shane came up, tossing his shotgun into his other hand and spinning it till the barrel tapped the back of his elbow.

He really likes to do that. I’ve never seen him hold that shotgun without doing that. Not once.

“We’re not going anywhere till my daughter gets back.” Carol stepped forward. 

“Hey, that goes without saying.” Couldn’t have said it better myself, Lori.

“Look, Rick and Daryl, they’re on it, okay? Just a matter of time.” Sometimes I forget Shane was a cop, but just now, it really showed.

Glenn came and stood next to me and Andrea tossed him a water bottle as she came up behind Carol.

“Can’t be soon enough for me. I’m still freaked out from that herd that passed us by, or whatever you’d call it.” she unscrewed her bottle and took a drink.

I watched Carol walk back to the guardrail to continue staring at the treeline.

“Yeah, what was that? All of them just marching along like that.” Glenn glanced at me as if I’d have the answer.

“Herd. That sounds about right.” Shane zoned out on the asphalt for a moment.

“Oh we’ve seen it. It’s like the night camp got attacked. Just a wandering pack only fewer.”

I glanced at Andrea who shifted with her gaze trained on the ground. I gave Shane a look Shane and he glanced over, realizing what he’d said.

“Okay” he let a stiff exhale slip. Shane cleared his throat, “Come on, people. We still got a lot to do. Let’s stay on it. Let’s go, come on.” he started moving and just like that all the busy bees went back to work.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurricane Dorian is set to hit where I am on Monday, so I'm posting these chps early in case I don't have power or internet or have to evacuate, but if I can post, I might post more on Monday.

“Carl, I’m taking this back. I want you to stay with Eve okay?”

“Okay, mom.”

I leaned out of the car I was in and watched Carl make his way to me from the car Lori had been digging through behind me.

I guess she trusts me to look after him. Since when did I become the babysitter though?

I don’t particularly mind having him around, but kids don’t do well with silence in my experience. Now babies are a different story. Kids too young to understand are easy to please.

Carl talked and I paid attention but he kept forgetting I don’t answer the same way the others do. That didn’t seem to deter him though. He just kept on keeping on.

I’ll tell you what though, this kid is one resilient little twerp. All this happening around him and he’s still curious about the world. He is definitely his father’s son.

I watched Carl out of the corner of my eye while I dug through a suitcase I’m pretty sure belonged to a very lonely dude, judging by the amount of adult dvd’s.

Seriously, who would think their adult films collection is more important to take in an apocalyptic situation than I don’t know, say, a water bottle? A lighter, kitchen knife, food, rope maybe. You know, just, the essentials for survival.

I stopped what I was doing for a minute and listened to the silence.

He’s being unusually quiet...What is he up to?

Dropping the suitcase on the floor, I looked at Carl and watched him jump up on the side of the truck just across from me; Peering through the dusty window.

He started to turn back towards me and I quickly diverted my eyes to the first thing I could find. Unfortunately for me, that happened to be a magazine called “Busty Asian Beauties Freaky Friday edition”

I glanced at Carl, hoping to God he didn’t see that, but he was walking around the truck to the other side.

A relieved sigh slipped as I shoved that magazine as far under the seat as I could, out of sight, hoping it would never see the light of day again. Maybe someone will use it as fire kindling one day.

I slipped out of the backseat of the car, and went around the back side of the truck, scanning the area to make sure it’s safe, and to make sure Lori’s not watching.

I probably shouldn’t be letting him do this, but how else is he gonna learn?

Lord knows Lori’s not gonna let him do this, and he’ll find a way to eventually. I’d rather let him do it here, now, where I can protect him in case something happens, then have him go off and get himself into trouble or worse. Circumstances aren’t favorable to us these days. Anything could happen, I don’t want Carl to end up out there on his own and not be able to fend for himself…

Sophia flashed through my head. We’ll find her, and as soon as we do I’m gonna teach both her and Carl how to hide, and if I can get away with it, how to fight.

With a healthy cautiousness, I watched Carl grab the driver’s side handle and jerk it open, jumping back with the door.

The body in the driver’s seat didn’t move -aside from the arm dropping, seeing as the door no longer supported it- as I knew it wouldn’t.

If that corpse had been a walker, it wouldn’t have stayed quiet while I was in the car next to it making noise. In other words, if it were live, I’d have killed it by now.

Carl stared at it in slight disgust for a moment, before moving closer. I did another quick check around, to make sure we hadn’t drawn any unnecessary attention from either walkers or the much more vicious alternative...mothers. We’ll both be in trouble if the latter spot us.

I wonder what he’s after in there.

He tugged on something in the body’s lap, something in a black leathery case but it didn’t budge.

He grabbed the side of the truck and the steering wheel and pulled himself up onto the door ledge, almost climbing inside the cabin to get a better hold on whatever it is.

Errg, I can’t see well enough from here.

Glancing around, I moved farther out, swinging out behind Carl so he can’t see me and I’m close enough he’ll know I’m behind him, but now I can see straight into the cabin.

I watched him tug on it again and again but just as I was about to move closer, there was a snap. Carl shrieked as he fell out of the cabin and I lunged forward, catching his head so he wouldn’t crack his skull against the asphalt.

I stared down at him and Carl looked up at me, arms full of a leathery tool holder, with the tip of a shiny new hatchet coming out the top.

Oh for pancakes sake, even Carl found something useful. Damnit, I am bad at picking cars. I seem to be turning over every useless hunk of metal here.

I haven’t found anything truly useful since this compass.

That fall was a close call but I couldn’t help it. I started laughing. I shouldn’t be, this isn’t funny. He could’ve gotten hurt, but— his face! His feet almost went over his head!

Carl sat up, trying not to smile and punched me in the arm. “It’s not funny”

I waved my hand while he hit me again, continuing to do so until I stopped laughing.

Ah, I needed that. I haven’t laughed like that in a while.

I ruffled his hair, expecting him to swat my hand away but to my surprise he didn’t.

I motioned at the tools and stood up, waiting for Carl to pick up the roll, both arms wrapped around it. Sometimes I forget how grown up kids can seem but still be kids. It’s a strange phenomenon.

“Can I go show these to Shane?” he looked up at me anxiously and I nodded, watching him run towards a nearby green car Shane was working on.

I think that RV is starting to feel a little crowded inside. Five people crammed inside, and I wasn’t even riding with them like I would have if I hadn’t ridden with Daryl.

Lori came into my view as I watched Carl, looking like she was panicking.

That’s my cue. I darted around the truck and made a beeline to my next vehicle, before she could see me.

I may have not thought that through entirely. Mmmm, not looking forward to the scolding I’m gonna get later for letting Carl do that, but I suppose in the end it was worth it.

We both needed the laugh, I’ll take responsibility for that.

* * *

The sun’s going down fast. I should probably head back. In the next ten minutes, it’ll be dark.

I climbed up on the hood of a car and looked around, finding a path back to the RV that’s almost a straight shot.

Jumping down, I started on my way back; Weaving between cars.

I wonder if they’re back yet. If they’ve found her. If they had, someone would’ve come looking for me by now. Unless, we don’t plan to move out tonight, what with how dark it’s gotten.

It was dangerous before to drive in the dark, it’s even more so now. We could run into another traffic jam, walkers, we could get lost, we could wind up in something we can’t get out of.

I hate this...Not being able to do anything. If I knew how to track, I could be out there with them searching for her.

I made my way back and noticed everyone standing by the guardrail. They’re back. I picked up my pace, almost running.

Daryl looked over as Rick stepped over the railing, and I came to a stop behind the Officer.

Rick was talking to Carol, and just by the look on her face, I knew.

I looked at Daryl for confirmation but he glanced at his shoes before looking at Carol.

What’s that supposed to mean? He didn’t shake his head, so she’s not dead, right?

“I know this is hard, but I’m asking you not to panic. We know she was out there.” Rick gestured behind him at the woods.

“And we tracked her for awhile.” Daryl moved forward, up to the railing.

She’s not dead. A relieved sigh allowed my tense posture to relax for a moment. Don’t scare me like that, Daryl.

“We have to make this an organized effort.” Rick stated while everyone moved closer to listen. Carol’s on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Daryl knows the woods better than anybody. I’ve asked him to oversee this.”

I glanced at Daryl before Carol’s gaze caught my attention. I followed it down to large stains on Daryl’s jeans. What is that, mud?

I moved closer, my leg brushing the rusty guardrail.

“Is that— is that blood?” Carol pointed

Daryl looked down, taking half a back, before looking at Rick with the closest thing to panic I’ve ever seen him have.

“We took down a walker.” Rick took attention off Daryl and almost immediately the hunter looked more comfortable. All eyes on him, doesn’t sit well with him, never has from what I know.

“Walker? Oh my God” Carol moved back and forth in dismay.

“There was no sign it was ever anywhere near Sophia.” Rick assured her.

I moved closer to Daryl, so I could see around Rick, and Daryl stepped closer.

“How can you know that?” Andrea came around Carol’s left.

Rick looked at Daryl, his turn to panic, and Daryl stepped forward again. The consternation of the group is almost tangible at this point. It almost makes it hard to breathe.

“We cut the son’a bitch open. Made sure.”

Carol deflated right there. Slowly sitting on the guardrail, still breathing like she was on the border of a panic attack.

Rick shifted, taking a step back to give her a little space but she wasn’t done with him.

Carol looked up at him, hate in her eyes.

“How could you leave her out there, to begin with? How could you just leave her!?” 

“Those two walkers were on us” Rick leaned down to her eye-level again. Shane came up behind Rick and I stepped over the guardrail, moving next to Daryl, so Shane could take my spot.

“I had to draw them off. It was her best chance.” Rick explained.

“Sounds like he didn’t have a choice, Carol.” Shane backed Rick up, like he’s no doubt done a hundred times before.

“How was she supposed to find her way back on her own? She’s just a child. She’s just a child.”

Rick crouched in front of Carol.

“It— It was my only option. The only choice I could make.” Rick looked her in the eyes. He’s taking this personally, isn’t he.

“I’m sure nobody doubts that.” Shane sat against the railing, next to Carol.

Daryl shifted closer to me, both of us glancing at each other. I watched Carol struggling with the most painful thing in history; A suffocating feeling spreading through in my tightening chest.

Lori wrapped her arm around Carol, rubbing her shoulder as mothers’ do to comfort.

“My little girl got left in the woods.” she whimpered before looking away from Rick.

The atmosphere grew heavier with every second. I’m surprised Rick was able to stand. Although he looked as if he was gonna fall as soon as he did.

He glanced at me and Daryl before moving away from Carol, towards the RV.

I can see almost see the dread weighing over him. I stepped back over the railing, Daryl following after me, and the others soon after. Everyone aside from Lori, and Andrea moving back towards the RV to let Carol do whatever it is she needs to right now.

What are you supposed to do in a situation like this?

I watched Rick head off into the sea of abandon cars, tempted to follow him but ultimately I pulled myself up on the hood of a car near Daryl’s motorcycle. He needs to be alone right now.

Daryl came and sat next to me after a few minutes. He didn’t say anything, but the disquietude around us didn’t dissipate. It got worse with every second.

It isn’t unusual for their to be silence between us, but not like this. Heavy, weighing on my shoulders.

It isn’t awkward or tense, but it’s not the usual comfortable either.

I looked at him, while he stared at the end of his crossbow intensely. I’ve never seen him like this before. Not even when he found out Merle was gone.

I don’t know what to do. Should I leave him be? Try my bedside manner? What the Hell do I do?

He’s worried about Sophia— I am too, don’t get me wrong, we all are but I don’t know what to do about it.

What are you supposed to do in the middle of an apocalypse when a child you’ve been with from the beginning goes missing?

Sophia’s like a niece to me...We were supposed to protect her. She was supposed to be safe with us.

How are we gonna help her now?

This is doing my head in.

I growled in frustration, rubbing my eyes with my fingers and leaned my elbows on my knees.

I looked over at Daryl, watching him scowl at the world. He looks so tired, but I doubt any of us will get any sleep tonight.

No. Enough of this.

“She’s gonna be fine.” I laid back on the windshield, crossing my arms behind my head, training my gaze on the sky.

The overcast is covering most of the stars, but at least it doesn’t smell like smog out here. In the countryside the air is cleaner than it was in Atlanta. It smells damp, and earthy. But not the dusty smell of dirt I’m used to.

Daryl shifted beside me, I assume to look at me.

The cool breeze blew strands of my hair over my face, some tickling my cheek, while others got stuck in the cracks of my lips.

“She’ll be okay. She has to be...” I didn’t want that to sound like I’m convincing myself, but we don’t always get what we want.


	22. Chapter 22

The cold air bit at my nose while I watched the forest from the top of the RV. Only the closest trees are visible in the moonlight.

A chill ran down my spine as the breeze blew my hair away from my neck. I pulled my knees tighter into my chest, rubbing my legs through my black jeans.

If only the moon gave off heat like the sun. In the sunlight the black keeps me warm but in the dark it makes it easier to hide. At night, I’m near impossible to see if I don’t wanna be seen.

Plus your brain is built to filter out black, and focus on white, shimmers, things that move, red in particular.

I wear black for more than just personal liking but it would be nice to have something else once in awhile. I miss wearing shorts. Skiing. Summer— swimming.

I’d kill a hundred walkers for a churro right now.

...Even more— however many it would take, to find Sophia safe.

Why did you run away?

You could have run towards the others, Rick— your mom...Why’d you run to the forest?

I rubbed my forehead against my knees before sitting up straight and taking a look around through my night vision goggles. I can’t see as far as I’d like, barely ten feet into the treeline. What’s the point of having up to 500 feet of viewing distance if you can’t see past the vegetation?

I looked up the road, being able to see all the way to the end of the cars. It’s hard to distinguish bodies from walkers in the dark so I’ve just been looking for movement.

Most of it’s false alarms; Small animals, leaves, trash blown by the wind, etc.

My eyes wandered to a plastic baby doll on the road for the hundredth time tonight.

I’ve been sitting up here for hours and every 20 minutes, like clockwork, I’ve ended up looking at that doll. It doesn’t look like Sophia’s but just being a doll is apparently enough to remind me of her.

I can see her carrying hers. Clinging to it when she’s scared, crying and burying her face in it, talking to it, looking at it and hoping someone finds her. Someone to chase away the dark.

A deep frustrated sigh escaped the confines of my lungs, and I stood up, pacing.

I’m fed up with just sitting here. Why didn’t she just keep going? Why’d she change direction? Why?

My jaw began to ache with the gritting of my teeth. I haven’t felt the need to hit something like this since Merle tried to hit on me a few months ago.

I stopped mid-step, slowly rocking back onto my back foot.

This isn’t helping. There’s nothing we could’ve done for Merle. He was gone when we got there, and unlike Sophia, he left no trail.

He was an asshole, but...I brought them into this group. Him and Daryl both.

What am I doing? It was too late to save Merle, it’s not too late for Sophia.

Focus. A twelve year old girl, alone in the woods. What’s the first thing she’d do?

Rick’s just left her alone and lead the walkers away. What would she do?

Do like he said, head back to the highway.

Even if not immediately. It doesn’t matter if she left right after him or not, either way she didn’t make it back before him and was gone by the time we got there. So she had at least a half hour head start on us. 

Everything was fine up until she changed course for no reason. But scared kids don’t abandon the chance to get back to their parents for no reason.

Why would she? What would make her deviate?

I chewed on my fingernail, continuing to pace, spinning on my heel each time I reached near the edge of the RV’s roof.

Come on, think. Think.

I ran my hands over my head, pulling my hair back, only to have it be blown back over my shoulders.

I jumped at an abrupt rustling and whirled towards the trees. I looked through my goggles at the green landscape, searching for the source of the noise.

Something scurried out from behind a tree, then another following it. I didn’t figure out what they were until I saw the tails.

I huffed, groaning out a sigh. I really hate squirrels— especially now.

Shaking my head, I relaxed and looked around. Anymore squirrels wanna chose now to scare me? Make me jump like some timid cat— 

I froze mid-turn. Realization dawning over me like morning fog clearing.

Timid. Sophia’s timid. She shakes like a leaf being more than ten feet from someone she trusts.

Daryl said there were no footprints— no walkers— but she wouldn’t think about that. She’d bolt at the slightest sound.

I touched my cold hand against my warm forehead. I’m such an idiot!

I flung my arms down so hard, my elbows and shoulder popping like snapping twigs.

A squirrel would be enough to scare her, send her running— she already had the living daylights scared out of her, being chased through the woods by flesh-eating monsters.

It could’ve been anything in that bush. She wouldn’t have thought twice about running.

All she had for directions was the sun over the shoulder thing Rick told her but the sun moves.

The later it gets, the farther it would’ve pushed her off course. She’d keep it over her left shoulder, if she had any mind to keep to her only directions. It would just push her farther and farther away.

Cheesus, by mid-afternoon she’d be so off track there’s no chance she could’ve made her own way back by then...

I rubbed my eyelids with my fingers. Attempting to massage the exhausted frustration away.

“Yer still up ‘ere?”

I started at the voice, eyes snapping over to the edge of the roof and relaxed when they landed on the familiar man.

I watched Daryl climb the last bit onto the RV roof, and come to stand next to me.

“I half expected ya to still be up lookin’ at the sky but I could’a sworn Glenn was supposed to be on watch by now.” Well, he’s not wrong but we switched last minute. He took first watch, I took second. Not that I got much sleep anyway.

I shrugged and watched Daryl scan the woods, blue eyes searching every shadow just as mine have been for the last 4 hours.

I glanced over my shoulder checking the woods behind us before sitting down on the cold metal roof.

Daryl sat next to me a minute later, motioning for the goggles. I handed them over without a second thought, startling myself. Since when did I become okay with sharing my stuff?

“How long you been up ‘ere anyway?” Daryl glanced at me.

I held up four fingers, and he nodded. It’s pretty standard for watch duty to be 4 hours. 5 is too long, we can’t risk someone falling asleep or missing something, or both. 3 is too short though. It’s impractical to change the guard that often on a number of scales. It’s not just manpower-consuming, it’s also frustrating. Especially if you were trying to get something done.

“You should try ta get some sleep-” Been there, tried that. “-I’ll take watch.” Daryl set the goggles on the roof.

I didn’t move and 30 seconds later, Daryl scowled at me.

“Go. It won’t do anyone any good if yer dead on yer feet tomorrow.” 

I snorted, and my lips gave way to an easy smile. I feel like I just got smacked upside the head.

I took a look up to the half-cloudy cold night sky before sighing, finally giving in to the tension in my shoulders. You think I could trick someone into giving me a shoulder massage? Glenn would probably be an easy target.

Giving in to the hole Daryl’s burning into the side of my head, I stood up using his shoulder to get to my feet. I did it without thinking but I’m surprised he didn’t flinch like he usually does to unexpected contact.

I waved goodnight as he watched me go to the ladder and look around before I climbed down.

I didn’t realize how truly tired I am until my feet hit the asphalt and my knees almost buckled absorbing the shock.

I staggered a bit, before regaining my balance. I could have sworn I had more endurance than this. I glanced around, hoping no one saw that. I’d never hear the end of it, if Glenn caught that.


	23. Chapter 23

“Everybody takes a weapon” Rick dropped the black tool bag Carl found yesterday onto the hood of Carol’s car.

Yeah I’ll pass. My own work just fine, thanks.

“These aren’t the kind of weapons we need. What about the guns?” Andrea asked impatiently, while others stepped up one by one to choose their weapon.

“We’ve been over that. Daryl, Rick, Eve, and I are carrying. We can’t have people popping off rounds every time a tree rustles.” Shane fiddled with his bag, trying to close it up after getting his piece out.

“It’s not the trees I’m worried about” Andrea sassed.

“Say somebody fires at the wrong moment, herd happens to be passing by. You see _ then it’s game over for all of us _. So you need to get over it.” Shane slung his backpack over his shoulder.

“The idea is to take the creek up ‘bout 5 miles.” Daryl spoke up before Andrea could argue again.

“Chances are she’ll be by the creek. It’s her only landmark.” Daryl started towards his motorcycle.

I glanced at Glenn and bit my lip to stop a rising snicker. He’s grinning at that hooked hatchet he chose like a serial killer.

“Stay quiet, stay sharp. Keep space between you but always within sight of each other.” Rick instructed.

“Alright everybody assemble your packs.” Shane really knows how to get the bees busy.

I made my way to the motorcycle with Daryl and picked up my backpack, stuffing my newly refilled water bottle in the largest pocket.

“Rick’s probably gonna stick up front, you gonna be okay coverin’ the back with Shane?” Daryl spoke low enough that only I could hear him.

What? My eyebrows knit together, one rising higher than the other. Why would he ask me that?

I glanced at Shane, briefly remembering the CDC. When I first saw him with that shotgun.

I shifted uncomfortably, accidentally bumping shoulders with Daryl.

Oh thanks, Daryl. I needed that _ delightful _reminder of my first panic attack in almost three years.

I almost didn’t nod but it’d be stupid not to. What happened back there...was an anomaly. A one time thing. This isn’t about him or me, or anyone, or how I feel personally. All that matters right now, is finding this little girl. Comfort should be the last thing on my mind.

Daryl watched me for a few seconds longer before nodding. I wonder why he does that. Always waiting after getting his answers. Just watching before acknowledging— or straight up walking away.

“Andrea, I’m beggin’ you don’t put me in this position.”

My attention was drawn to the RV where Andrea and Dale stood, but mark my words, one of these days I’m gonna ask him about it.

“I’m not going out there without my gun. I’ll even say please.” Andrea cocked her hips to the side.

Is she thick or something? How many times are gonna have to go over this?

“I’m doin’ this for you.” Dale shook his head.

“No, Dale, you’re doing it for you. You need to stop.”

Dale remained silent, putting some tools on the step just inside the RV side doorway.

“Oh what do you think’s gonna happen, I’m gonna stick it in my mouth and pull the trigger the moment you hand it to me?” When did this escalate to suicide?

“I know you’re angry at me. That much is clear.” No shit, Dale. But, hey, is there any way you guys can do this later? We’ve got bigger fish to fry right now.

“But if I hadn’t done what I did, you’d be dead now.”

“Jenner gave us an option. I chose to stay.” Andrea countered.

“You chose suicide!” Dale argued

“So what’s that to you? You barely know me.”

Really people? Come on! You’re choosing _ now _ to bitch this fit?

“I know Amy’s death devastated you-”

“Keep her outta this.” Andrea snapped. “This is not about Amy. This is about us.”

Forget about your damn gun! You’ll be fine, if I can get by without using mine, you can live without yours for one day.

“And if I decided I had nothing left to live for, who the Hell are you to tell me otherwise?” Andrea’s voice strained, like she was about to cry but too angry to actually do it. “To force my hand like that.”

“I saved your life.” Dale shrunk a little, not so sure of his reasoning anymore by the sound of it.

“No, Dale. I saved yours. You forced that on me. I didn’t want your blood on my hands and that is the only reason I left that building.” You’d be dead, why would you care? What makes you think you _ could _ care by that point?

“What did you expect? What, I’d have some kind of epiphany? Some life affirming-catharsis?” Andrea I know you’re upset, and you have a right to be, but now is not the time for this.

“Maybe just a little gratitude.” Dale didn’t sound too sure of his answer.

“Gratitude?” Andrea’s really perfected that incredulous way of pronunciation.

“I wanted to die my way, not torn apart by drooling freaks. That was my choice. You took that away from me, Dale.”

“But-”

“But you know better.” Andrea cut him off before he’d barely gotten a sound out.

“All I wanted after my sister died was to get out of this endless horrific nightmare we live everyday. I wasn’t hurting anyone else. You took my choice away, Dale. And you expect-...” Andrea shook her head, a tear finally slipping from her eye, “gratitude?”

There was a long lull of silence and I glanced around at everyone else, getting anxious. By now all eyes were on those two. The entire group spectating their argument.

“I don’t know what to say.”

Apparently you do, Dale. That’s more than I would have come up with.

“I’m not your little girl. I’m not your wife, and I’m sure as Hell not your problem. That’s all there is to say.” Andrea retaliated.

Speaking of little girl’s, can we please go now that you're done tearing Dale a new one?

We’re burning daylight Sophia doesn’t have.

Andrea moved around Dale and as soon as she came towards me & Daryl, I turned on my heel and headed for the guardrail.

* * *

I stayed near the back, as far away from Andrea and Carol as I could.

Those two shouldn’t be out here with us, they’re toxic right now. I understand why Carol _ is _ out here, Sophia’s her little girl but she’s too emotionally invested to make a rational decision, and Andrea’s a time bomb. A bitchy, self-centered, narrow-minded time bomb.

I didn’t get along with her really before Amy…now I can barely tolerate her.

I mean, I understand why she is the way she is but I just— I can’t think like that.

I have given her all the leniency I’m capable of. I wouldn’t wish her harm, and we are friends(in a sense), but for the love of God. Please, save the pity party for a time when a little girl’s life isn’t at stake.

* * *

After almost an hour of searching, Carl drifted to the back of the group with Shane and I.

“Shane, look.” Carl held up a sharp pocket knife.

“Dad said I could carry it” Shane gave an over-exaggerated sigh as Carl began rambling and I found myself glaring at him. “and mom said as long as I was—”

“Keep it down.” Shane snapped. “We’re looking for Sophia. You need to focus on the task.”

I was floored by Shane’s attitude towards Carl, stopping dead in my tracks.

Carl looked like a kicked puppy, eyes downcast. Barely picking his feet up with each step.

I looked at Lori who stepped towards us and we shared a look of equal outrage before her eyes turned towards her son and softened.

“Got to keep up” she pulled him forward up by her, as a protective mother should.

“I am” Carl mumbled.

Shane stopped, moving to look at something we’d just past as the others continued and I stood there, staring at him.

He looked at me and as soon as he walked past me, I smacked him upside the head with my free hand.

He glared back at me but I grabbed a fist ful of his shirt, slamming him against a tree.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, but if you ever speak to Carl like that again, Sophia won’t be the only one lost in the woods.” I hissed.

My eyes bore into his until he knew I was dead serious. He shifted his gun in his hand, nodding, before I let him go and made my way back to the others just a few paces ahead.

I didn’t stay at the back, instead making my way up to the front. I can’t be alone next to Shane right now, or I might do much more threaten.

Why can’t these people just get their shit together for ten minutes?

I came up next to Rick, brushing Carol’s shoulder as I passed her. He looked at me as if something was wrong but I shook my head once, just to reassure my appearing upfront isn’t something to be concerned about.

Daryl stopped, coming around some leafy green branches and crouched. It was natural for me to do so almost simultaneously but I watched Rick motion to the others to get down as he did himself. I forgot they don’t have these instincts.

I followed his gaze through the trees to a green and grey tent. It almost blends in with the surrounding forest but the red cooler next to it makes it almost impossible to miss.

“She could be in there.” Shane mumbled, coming up on Rick’s other side, not bothering to crouch.

“Could be a whole bunch of things in there.” Daryl grumbled as he rose, moving forward cautiously, crossbow raised.

I followed, taking my knives in-hand looking through the surrounding trees to avoid any nasty surprises as we got closer.

Once we were only a few yards from it, Daryl stopped, motioned for Rick and Shane to stay here, then looked at me and point to the right side of the tent.

I nodded and he pulled his own knife as we moved closer; Me to the right, him to the left.

The zipper to the tent was unzipped, not enough to let an adult through but I’ll bet a child could no problem.

Daryl gently set his crossbow down on the ground, holding his knife ready while I moved around the side of the tent, looking out at the woods behind it.

I moved back around to the front and watched Daryl move away from the entrance. My guess is he was trying to look inside without touching it, just in case.

He glanced at me, moving towards the other side. I shook my head, and crouched as low as I could to peek through the door while he carefully lifted the edge of the rain cover to see through the window.

I can see something that looks like the foot of a camping chair but I can’t tell.

I looked at Daryl and he looked at Rick, exaggerating a shrug to convey our findings of zip.

Rick looked over his shoulder and said something I couldn’t make out to the group staying farther back, then Carol came up next to him.

“Call out softly. If she’s in there, yours is the first voice she should hear.”

Carol nodded, looking towards the tent. Daryl and I got ready for whatever comes out of this tent, but something doesn’t feel right about this tent.

Not for this at least.

“Sophia, sweetie” Carol did exactly as Rick told her to.

“Are you in there? Sophia it’s mommy.”

I shifted my weight from foot to foot, ready for what could happen any second but the longer I waited, the more anxious I got. Nothing’s happened yet.

Daryl glanced at me, the same uneasy feeling twisting my gut is twisting his from the looks of it.

“Sophia. We’re all here, baby. It’s mommy.”

Daryl glanced back at Rick and them and shook his head.

Rick came forward, as did Shane, coming up right behind us as Daryl reached for the tent zipper and began pulling it as slow as he could, keeping the noise to a minimum.

Here we go

He unzipped it far enough to get inside but when he pulled the flap out of the way, I almost puked. He covered his mouth with the back of his knife hand, coughing.

The wall of stench billowing out of the tent like invisible smoke, was so putrid my eyes began to water.

I coughed into my elbow, Shane and Rick just behind me coughing as well.

I had to force myself to breathe through my nose, hoping to speed up getting accustomed to the smell. I was right about the camping chair but the body rotting in it answers what these smells are.

Another few nauseating seconds and Daryl moved inside, the flap dropping closed behind him, leaving the rest of us coughing outside. 

He has the strongest stomach I’ve ever seen.

The smell isn’t so bad for me anymore, but Shane and Rick are still struggling.

“Daryl?” Carol called

I can hear little clicking noises but I can’t place them. If something was wrong though, we’d know by now.

“Daryl?” Carol called again.

I glanced back at her, just before the tent rustled and out-stepped Daryl.

“Ain’t her”

I straightened up, tangible relief sweeping across all the faces around us. Including my own.

“What’s in there?” Andrea asked, with a little morbid curiosity. Not that I’m one to talk.

“Some guy. Did what Jenner said. Opted out.” Daryl picked up his crossbow, checking it and slung it over his shoulder. “Ain’t that what he called it?”

I moved to take a step but mid-turn the sound of bells had all of us on alert. They’re distant but there’s no mistake.

I turned until they were loudest, Rick coming to the same conclusion at the same moment.

Rick pointed whereas I just took off, assuming they’d follow.


	24. Chapter 24

Everyone followed Rick and I through the woods, the bells getting louder and louder.

The sound is echoing, it’s difficult to tell which way they’re coming from but Rick and I seem to have a good ear for the direction.

“What direction?” Shane asked as we slowed.

“I think that way. I’m pretty sure.” Rick pointed the direction we were headed.

“Dang, it’s hard to tell out here” Shane hopped on a log, as if the 2 feet of height would give him better hearing.

“If we hear them, maybe Sophia does too” for the first time since Sophia went missing, I can hear hope in Carol’s voice.

“Someone’s ringing those bells. Maybe calling others.” Glenn suggested.

“Or signaling that they found her.” Andrea spoke between pants.

I glanced at Rick, pointing ahead and he gave a nod of agreement.

“She could be ringin ‘em herself.” Rick stated. “Come on”

I picked up to a jog, right behind Rick and as we got closer, the sound got louder and louder until it stopped.

* * *

I followed Rick out of the treeline, going around him so I could see. In the center of the large clearing in front of us, a rundown church stood.

It’s been a few minutes since we heard the bells but they were close when they stopped.

I don’t know about you guys, but if I was Sophia and found this place, that’s definitely where I’d go.

“That can’t be it, there’s no steeple—Rick!” Shane called after the deputy as he took off towards the building.

He didn’t get ten steps before the rest of us were chasing him.

Just like old times, Daryl, Glenn, Shane, and I were hot on his heels right up to the red doors.

I pulled my knives as Daryl moved past me, going up the steps with Rick.

Rick glanced at the rest of us, most of the group was behind us at the bottom of the steps looking around.

Rick looked at Daryl, nodded, and simultaneously they pushed the doors open.

There were 3 walkers inside, sitting on the benches and they turned to look as soon as the doors opened but they didn’t move.

Rick and Daryl moved just inside the doors, Shane moving between them.

I’ve never seen walkers not lunge before. It’s creepy how they’re just sitting there but they weren’t for long.

Rick holstered his gun and reached behind him, his wife handing him her machete.

Shane did the same, taking the weapon from the person behind him and followed Rick inside.

Daryl handed his crossbow to Glenn, who almost dropped it, as he traded for Glenn’s hooked machete. As soon as it was in his hand, Daryl looked at it in his hand.

Rick moved to the left side, Shane down the middle, and Daryl to the right.

I turned and looked out behind us, trusting all of them can kill a single walker without supervision. So I didn’t stick around, instead I walked past everyone else, moving around the side to do a perimeter sweep of the church, checking the outside.

If there were walkers in there, just sitting there, chances are Sophia wasn’t here.

I don’t think anyone’s been here in a long time. Long enough for cannibalistic dead people to go idle.

“Sophia!”

A door swung open in front of me and Rick came this close to a knife in the forehead.

So much for being difficult to sneak up on.

He put his hand up as sort of an apology, and a request to lower my blade. I shook my head, lowering my knife and threw him a look.

Jesus Rick, be more careful. He’s lucky it was just me out here.

I watched him go back inside before continuing my sweep.

I moved around the backside of the church, looking out at the woods. They’re closer to the church back here but still far enough we shouldn’t have to worry too much.

We’ve been walking all day non-stop, this is a good place to take a 5-10 minute break. Reevaluate our strategy a little cause so far we’ve found two major things Sophia didn’t.

Call it intuition but something tells me we’re not going the same way she did.

I reached far back corner, about to move around the side, when the bells went off again, startling me into a run.

I ran around the side, seeing Glenn and Daryl at the end, running towards me but looking up at the roof.

I followed their gaze up to a speaker under the lip of the roof. I stopped right next to them, and watched Glenn pull at a box on the side of the church, dismantling the speaker a second later.

“Timer” Daryl panted, out of breath, turning back to the others who just joined us. “It’s on a timer”

I sighed, running my hands through my hair, pulling it away from my face. I can practically taste the disappointment.

Cheesus, can you imagine if we found her here? In a church of all places.

I’m not religious, never have been and probably never will be but that...that just might have swayed me to believe there is a god.

“I’m gonna go back in for a bit.” Carol went back inside, along with most of the others, and Andrea came over and sat down against the building.

I leaned against the wall next to her, keeping her company. I don’t want her to be alone out here either. Just in case.

“Are you really leaving?” That’s Lori’s voice.

I looked over, but she wasn’t in sight. Granted the corner of the church is blocking most of my view.

“Don’t you think it’s best for all of us” Shane.

“I think it is. What made you decide?”

“Gotta back away. Just tryin’ to be the good guy here Lori, even if you don’t see it. None of this was intended. I hope you know that. Don’t matter as long as I said it.”

Am I hearing this right?

“You’re just gonna disappear? You’re not even gonna tell Rick” Lori’s voice got quieter and I moved around Andrea, closer to the edge to hear better.

I never thought of myself as an eavesdropper before, but this isn’t the first time I’ve been a fly on the wall.

“He’d only try to stop me— that’s on you. You tell him what you want, or tell him nothing at all. You’re his wife.”

“And Carl? We dragged him into this” Lori’s voice strained.

“I love Carl”

“He thinks you hate him”

“I’m tryna put some distance. I’m tryna make this easier. This ain’t easy on any of us Lori; least of all me. I’m the one who loses you.” Shane’s voice cracked on the last words.

I waited a few seconds, but all I got was footsteps. Sounds like someone’s walking away, not sure who though.

I peeked around the corner, spotting Shane standing there alone. So I was right. Lori must’ve walked away.

I didn’t think their...relations were still having kickback like this, after Rick showed up alive back at camp. I mean, I knew things would get complicated sooner or later, but I didn’t expect Shane to run away.

Andrea walked past me, out from the side and as soon as I noticed her I did the opposite. I moved back, pressing into the building so Shane wouldn’t see me.

I don’t think he sees me, but he definitely sees her.

Andrea went after him, after watching him walk away and I quietly slipped into the church.

Inside, I stood against the back wall next to Daryl. Carl looked over at me while Carol prayed to a statue.

In my experience, asking someone else to fix your problems never works, but I can see why some need to.

I’ve always done things by myself, never asked for someone to be a savior, least of all from a deity I’m not even sure is there. But if I had been religious before this, I don’t think I would still be now. Not after this.

Daryl elbowed me as Rick went outside, and we followed him out just a few seconds before everyone else decided to.

I stopped next to a gravestone near the tree everyone else -aside from Daryl- had gathered under.

I’m tempted to hop up and sit on the stone but even I’m not that disrespectful of the dead.

I mean, I don’t think the dead care what the living do. They’re dead. Why would they give a damn?

But then again, most of them are still walking around, so...it’s probably better to show some respect.

Everyone was gathered up outside now.

Daryl next to me, checking his crossbow. I pulled my pack off my shoulder and set it down on top of the stone. I won’t sit on it, even though it looks like a freaking bench, but I don’t see any harm in setting my backpack down for a minute.

I dug through it until I pulled my water bottle out. I took a few swallows, watching the light shimmer off the clear liquid while I drank. I’ve always liked how water looks in light. Sunlight in particular.

It’s amazing how bright the rays become with just a little bit of translucent liquid.

When I was finished, I screwed the cap back on and raised it up to look at them for a bit longer.

One second it was just beautiful, the next my nose stung and my entire upper body whipped down as I sneezed.

Daryl jumped next to me, nearly aiming his crossbow at me while I recovered.

I looked at him with a smile, trying not to smile too much, or risk actually getting shot with that thing.

Daryl snorted, shaking his head at me.

I tilted my head back a bit, looking over his shoulder, to see several others looking at me, with smiles, a few openly grinning.

I’m glad you all find my sneeze so amusing, but if this is what it takes to get you lot to smile, we’re in serious morale trouble.

Shane & Rick have been talking several feet from the rest of us for a while and chose now, after I made half the group almost pee themselves with an innocent biological reaction to sunlight, to come over to everyone with that group meeting vibe.

I don’t know how they do that, but now I know what it’s like for the others, talking to me.

I moved with Daryl closer to the group, as Shane and Rick stopped in front of everyone.

“Y’all gotta follow the creek bed back. Okay Daryl, you’re in charge. Me and Rick are just gonna hang back. Search this area another hour or so, just to be thorough.” Shane announced

“Splittin’ us up. You sure?” Daryl shifted.

Oh yeah, this is gonna go well.

“Yeah, we’ll catch up to you” Shane confirmed

“I wanna stay too.” Carl stepped forward. “I’m her friend.”

Rick and Shane looked at each other before Rick looked to Lori for a verdict.

“Just be careful, okay?”

“I will” Lori cupped Carl’s cheeks.

“When did you start growing up?” she hugged her son, kissing the top of his head.

Rick came forward and kissed his wife, before holding his gun out to her. “You remember how to use it?”

“I’m not taking your gun and leavin’ you unarmed” Lori refused the python

“Here. Got a spare” Daryl came forward with another gun, “Take it”

Where did he get that? That’s not one of ours.

I didn’t realize I’d followed him forward until Lori took the gun and everyone started moving out, me at the back.

I smiled at Carl and gave a small wave, which he returned before we went our separate ways. Be careful, kid.

We hadn’t walked 10 feet before Andrea threw a dirty look at Lori. She’s not exactly good at hiding her disdain, is she.

This is gonna be a fun walk. All we need now, is awkward sexual tension, and some loathing, an argument between best friends, and a dash of betrayal. Then we can bake a drama cake and crown someone queen.


	25. Chapter 25

I walked at the back of the group, keeping a look out behind us while Daryl lead the way at the front and Glenn, Lori, Andrea, and Carol trudged between us.

I don’t know— scratch that, I know  _ exactly _ why I feel like a school teacher babysitting a bunch of kids on a field trip.

“So this is it?” Carol sat down on the log in front of me, making me stop suddenly before I ran into her. “This the whole plan?”

“Guess the plan is to whittle us down into smaller and smaller groups.” Daryl leaned against a tree, while everyone stopped to catch their breath.

“Carrying knives and pointy sticks” Andrea interjected before her gaze shifted to Lori. Oh no

“I see you have a gun.”

“Why, you want it?” Lori looked up at her. I watched Lori extend the gun out to Andrea.

“Here, take it. I’m sick of the looks you’re giving me.”

I’m not sure if she’s actually giving it, or daring her to take it. Although it really looks like both. Andrea’s mouth was gaping like a fish but she took the gun with a huff because Lori had called her out.

“All of you” Lori sat down on the log, pulling her water bottle out from her backpack.

I haven’t been throwing dirty looks, I haven’t been looking at any of you.

I thought we were supposed to be keeping our eyes out for Sophia, and signs that someone’s been through here. That’s what we’re doing out here in the first place.

Am I the only one who’s actually been looking!?

_ What the actual Hell!?! _

“Honey, I can’t imagine what you’re going through and I would do anything to stop it, but you have gotta stop blaming Rick. It is in your face  _ every _ time you look at him.”

Carol looked at Lori before looking down at her shoes.

“And when Sophia ran, he didn’t hesitate did he? Not for a second. I don’t know that any of us would have gone after her the way he did.” Lori looked at Daryl, “Or made the hard decisions that he had to make, or that anybody could have done it  _ any _ differently.”

Selfish sons a bitches—

“Anybody?” Lori looked around but when she looked at me I put my hands up. I’m not gettin’ involved in this BS.

I came out here to find a little girl, not babysit and watch cranky “ _ adults”  _ bitch & whine like spoiled brats.

I walked past Glenn, just so done with all these people’s shit, and Daryl threw me a questioning look.

I took off my backpack and dropped it near the base of the tree. Pointing to my eyes then up, I jumped, hooking my hands on a thick low branch. He nodded, glancing up.

I swung my legs similar to a gymnast and pulled myself up. Being careful where I grabbed, I scaled the tree until I was high enough to get a bird’s eye view but low enough to be under the canopy of tree tops.

I didn’t hear the rest of the conversation below but a minute or so later, Daryl whistled and I looked down to see we were about to move on.

I pointed in the direction we needed to go and Daryl glanced over their before nodding, motioning for me to come down, and leading the group from there while I climbed down.

I was halfway down the tree when a gunshot startled me and my foot missed the branch.

My heart stopped for a split second as my side smashed into the branch full force and the branch I’d been holding onto broke under the sudden weight.

“Eve!”

Hitting one branch after the other on the way down, my hands skidded against the bark, scratching my skin open as I tried to catch hold of  _ anything _ .

The bark disappeared from under my hands and in a split second, I was surrounded by nothing but air for what felt like an eternity. Like when you jump off a high dive, the moment before you’re about to hit the water.

Before I knew it I was staring up, gasping; feeling like a cannonball hit me in the back.

Daryl appeared in my vision, followed by Glenn, and Lori.

“Oh my God— oh my god— oh my god— are you okay?” Glenn panicked above me.

That’s a fair question.

I struggled to force the air deeper into my lungs but they weren’t having it. I’m getting enough to live but I feel like I’m suffocating. Breathing through a coffee-straw.

It hurts like a hornet to the eye but I don’t think anything’s broken. A sharp pain in my neck kept me from turning my head to look at Daryl.

I swallowed, biting my lip, and slowly reached up to my neck.

As soon as I touched my skin, I flinched away with a hiss. My hand stung and burned like I’d stuck a papercut in a vat of vinegar.

Looking at my hand, I barely recognized it as mine. It looks like the remains of a cat’s scratching post and I don’t think my other hand looks much better.

“Sit her up” Daryl moved his hand behind my neck, sliding it under my head while Lori moved hers under my arm behind my back, and Glenn grabbed my wrist, and my back.

“Slow” Daryl warned as my shoulders left the ground and more hands were on my back.

They helped me sit up but my ribcage protested severely. Even breathing hurts. I couldn’t turn my head more than a centimeter or two without sharp pains deterring my efforts from looking to the left.

I can already feel the bruises forming on my arms and back. I think I landed on a rock...or a  _ boulder. _

“Where does it hurt?” Lori asked. I gave her a ‘really’ look and she sighed. “Everywhere, then”

“Can you stand up?” Carol asked. I tried to nod but I’m not entirely sure I did, to be honest.

Daryl lifted my arm over his shoulders and Glenn followed suit on my other side. My whole back is almost numb, but I still felt their arms lay across it and it hurt.

Daryl put his other hand on my stomach, taking just a little more of my weight but a little goes a long way. It was enough to get me on my feet.

Standing hurt, even though they did most of the work, and miraculously I think my legs are okay. I’m surprised I didn’t snap an ankle or something.

It’s a miracle I didn’t break something— as far as I know.

How high up was I? 10— 15 feet, maybe 20.

I pulled my hand from Glenn’s shoulders and held my side, where my ribs are now throbbing like something’s trapped under my skin, trying to get out. That is not a pretty visual.

“Can I?” Lori carefully took the end of my shirt.

I nodded, and she lifted my shirt up where I had hit the branches and from the looks on their faces, I’m guessing it doesn’t look good.

“Think you can keep going?” Daryl asked, almost mumbling.

“Uh— is that a good idea?” Glenn eyed my ribs. I don’t dare look down. I can feel it, that’s enough for me.

Out of sight, out of mind, right? I dearly hope so, cause my back is starting to burn.

“We can’t exactly stay ‘ere” He’s got a point. I can barely see Daryl out of the corner of my eye but I think he’s looking around.

I squeezed Glenn’s shoulder, even though it stung and nodded, to let him know I’m fine to go on.

All things considered, this could’ve been a lot worse.

Sweet honey mustard...I could have  _ died _ from that height. If I’d hit that rock(if it was a rock) any other way than I did…

Yet I don’t even have a broken bone —as far as I can tell _ .  _ I’ve had broken bones before, they don’t all feel same but pretty damn close.

It took a moment to get my walking sorted out before Lori picked up my backpack, and we kept moving.

Every time someone moved to help me, I didn’t let them. Maybe it’s just my own stubbornness talking but I can walk, I don’t need help.

I stayed in the middle, just behind Glenn and Daryl since I can’t turn my head. At least I did for awhile, at some point I found myself walking in the back again.

It got a little easier to move, I think it was just getting adjusted to the new bruises I’ve got that slowed me down. Kinda like building muscle, you’ve gotta tear it and wear yourself out to get stronger.

My legs are fine, my eyes are fine, and there’s nothing we can do about the injuries I do have, there’s no reason not to keep looking.

I think I’ve got a massive bruise on my hip though. It’s hindering my step a little.

If a walker died every time Daryl glanced back at me, we could all sleep soundly for the rest of our lives.


	26. Chapter 26

“Are you still worrying about it?” Andrea asked as the group stopped to take a short rest.

Thank God. My ribs wanna strangle my lungs just for the need to breathe. Nevermind what I’ve been making them do.

“That was a gunshot...” Lori’s worried eyes stared past me, back the way we came.

I leaned against the tree next to me, sliding down to give my needlessly sore muscles a break. What was meant to be a sigh, came out as a groan I hope no one noticed.

My muscles are trembling just sitting here but if I show too much pain, they’ll make me go back to the highway; and no doubt at least someone will feel uneasy about my going alone, which just takes more manpower away from the search— if they don’t decide to just call it.

“We all heard it” Daryl gave me a ‘you good?’ look. I nodded and took a moment to let the various degrees of pain subside and become background noise.

“Why one? Why just one gunshot?” Lori looked at him as if he’d know the answer.

Daryl shook his head, probably wracking his brain for an answer she’ll accept. “Maybe they took down a walker”

“_ Please don’t patronize me. _You know Rick wouldn’t risk a gunshot to put down one walker— or Shane. They’d do it quietly.” Lori looked back to the woods.

She’s got a point, actually. I swallowed hard and Glenn came over to me, crouching and slipping his backpack off.

“Shouldn’t they have caught up with us by now?” Carol looked at Daryl expectantly.

“There’s nothing we can do about it anyway. Can’t run around these woods chasing echoes.” Daryl looked around, shifting his crossbow in his hands.

Glenn pulled out a water bottle and unscrewed it, holding it out to me.

I took it with a grateful lip quirk and ignored the pinching in my arm for the relief the cool-ish water brought my throat.

I looked where my neck would let me; scanning the area with my laser vision, wishing I was like Superman. I could find Sophia in a heartbeat then, and I wouldn’t have tweaked my neck or messed up my torso like— like some rookie _ dumbass _.

“So what do we do?” Lori asked Daryl as I handed Glenn the bottle.

“Same as we been. Beat the bush for Sophia, work our way back to the highway.” Daryl answered, glancing at me once again.

It’s funny, when Rick and Shane’s not around, everyone seems to look to Daryl for direction. Not that it’s irrational, he is a hunter and we’re in the middle of the woods. Evolutionarily speaking, he would be in charge with the leader and secondary pack leader absent.

“I’m sure they’ll hook up with us back at the RV” Andrea reassured.

Glenn offered me a hand. I smiled and he helped me back to my feet. It was easier than the first time but it hurt more.

After all these centuries of modern-ish civilization, the tribal system still applies. To an extent. Guess it’s just part of traveling in a pack.

Hmm, I wonder where would I be on that scale? Rick’s the pack alpha— that’s obvious, Shane is his right hand, Daryl is next— 

Lori touched my shoulder and I flinched immediately cursing the involuntary action. She gave me an apologetic look and I waved it off after a second, when I was able.

We started moving again but we didn’t get ten feet before Andrea walked over to a stationary Carol, keeping everyone from moving on. “I’m sorry for what you’re going through. I know how you feel”

“I suppose you do. Thank you.” Carol looked her up and down. Her gaze is getting more and more downcast. She’s giving up.

She looked around at the woods like most city people do, shaking her head, and clenching her jaw.

“The thought of her, out here, by _ herself. _ It’s the not knowing that’s killing me. I just keep hopin’ and prayin’ she doesn't wind up like Amy.”

My eyebrows shot to my hairline, jaw dropping like the muscles had been cut. She did not just say that to her.

Andrea shifted, obviously having half a mind to smack Carol but Carol’s desperate, “Oh God. That’s the worst thing I ever said” made her shake her head and step back.

“We’re all hoping and praying with you. For what it’s worth.”

Damn. I should give her more credit. I think I would’ve grabbed Carol by the throat if she’d something like that to me.

“I’ll tell you what it’s worth— _ not a damn thing. _” Daryl interrupted, drawing all eyes to him.

“It’s a waste a time all this hopin’ and prayin’. Cause we’re gonna locate that little girl. She’s gonna be just _ fine. _” I don’t think I’ve ever heard Daryl state something with such conviction.

He looked back and forth between the two before turning to walk away.

“Am I the only one Zen around here? Good lord.”

“...Eve’s pretty calm” Glenn interjected as we started moving again.

I smiled and winked, putting two thumbs up as they looked back at me.

Daryl scoffed, shaking his head, “When ain’t she? Just fell out of a damn tree and she’s over there smilin’ like it never happened.”

Amused smiles played across the faces around me as we started moving again. For as much pain as I’m in right now, I can say with some level of certainty, it was worth it. If just for that.

I waited until everyone past me before I started moving again, making me the only person who caught Lori’s last worried glance to the forest behind us.

* * *

I turned in a careful circle, lingering a bit as I scanned behind us.

Only being able to turn one way is a real bitch.

Somehow we’ve gone from walking in a line, to walking next to each other, a few paces apart.

I walked on Daryl’s right at the end of our line, but every time I did my spin, I couldn’t help but notice that while everyone else is leaving footprints, but mine aren’t as noticeable.

My step is lighter than most, I know that. I mean, I can understand why my step is lighter than Daryl’s, he’s probably 100 lbs of muscle heavier than me. But I bet ya I’m faster than all of them— maybe not right this second but if it was life or death, these scrapes wouldn’t stop me from bookin’ it.

The need to breathe comes second to the need for a pulse.

The line came to a stop and I walked a little farther to where I could see through a slit in the trees. Looking at the horizon, I noted the darkening gradient of the sky. The sun’ll be down soon.

Dale’s watch would sure come in handy right about now, but if I had to guess, it’s maybe 7-ish?

“We’ll lose the light before too long. I think we should call it.” Daryl’s voice right behind me startled me but I could tell he wasn’t facing me.

“Let’s head back” Lori agreed

I turned, doing another scan. Momentarily blinding myself with the reflection off my knife, but my knife is— ...in my...

I looked down, leaning a bit until the glint blinded me again. What is that?

I knelt down in the dirt, brushing damp and crusty leaves out of the way.

It’s a piece of metal. I dug it out of the dirt with my fingers and held it up where I could get a better look at it; burning my retina again. No wonder it was glinting so harshly, it’s gold. A small heart shaped locket but I don’t think it’s Sophia’s.

My fingers went to my own locket instinctively, as I stared at it. It’s rusted in places but not completely. It can’t have been here for _ that _ long.

I started to wobble and braced my hand against a tree to make it easier.

“Pick it up again tomorrow?” Carol asked as I opened the locket. Whatever was inside it is long gone, if there ever was something inside it.

“Yeah we’ll find her tomorrow” Lori answered.

I wonder how it got here.

This isn’t exactly a populated area— nor is it a camp ground. At least I don’t think it is. Either that or we somehow missed the sign.

It’d be a shame to leave it here. It’s a nice necklace. Maybe Sophia will like it.

I rubbed all the dirt I could off the necklace on my jeans and jacket, along with my own fingers and stuffed it in my pocket just as a sharp low whistle caught my attention.

Neck slipping my mind, I tried to crane my neck and a sharp pull of muscle sent a sing all down my spine. My teeth trapped my lips, eyes slamming shut at the sensation.

It was a good few seconds before I could open them, release my now swelling lips and turn on the balls of my feet, using the ground to keep from falling over.

Daryl jerked his head, letting me know we were leaving, with a wary look I was hoping to avoid.

I nodded, using the tree next to me to stand up, but my bruises and particularly my ribs, weren’t happy about standing again.

Quit your whining, Evelyn Rider.

We’ve fallen out of trees before. Never with a gnawing notion that we could be running for our lives at any second— but that’s no excuse.

I caught up to Glenn who waited until I was right next to him to keep going and -probably having something to do with longer legs- made it to the front within a few steps.

I didn’t realize before but I think I’m the second tallest woman in the group. After Lori.

I know I’m taller than Dale. Glenn and I are the same height.


	27. Chapter 27

“How much farther?” Lori asked

“Not much. Maybe a hundred yards. As the crow flies” Daryl answered.

He sounds exhausted, I don’t blame him. We’re all running on empty. I’m trying not to wheeze but I sound like a dying car’s tailpipe. A leaking can of aerosol.

“Too bad we’re not crows” Andrea stomped to the side of me as she walked. Feet crashing on leaves and sticks with every step.

Glenn nudged me and pointed to a strangely warped mushroom on a log. The corner of my lip lifted and my feet came to a halt in front of it.

I stiffly leaned down to pick it, attempting to not be too obvious in holding my side as I did it, when a scream snapped my attention away from it.

“Andrea?!” Lori called out, head’s swivelling in every direction to check for the grumpy blonde before several pairs of heavy steps were running towards the screams.

The fall slowed me down quite a bit more than I’d have liked but I still kept pace with them, opting to stay next to Carol near the back.

We ran through the trees, headed for a patch of tan until we came to a stop several feet from a girl on a horse but I don’t see Andrea.

My first instinct was to pull my gun on the girl but that flew out the window when she spoke.

“Lori? Lori Grimes? Whoa” How the crap does she know her name?

“I’m Lori” said woman next to me panted, staring.

“Rick sent me you gotta come now” the girl rushed the words out as fast as humanly possible.

“What?” Lori’s brow scrunched in confusing; a state of nonplussed sweeping over the rest of the group.

“There’s been an accident. Carl’s been shot” _ Oh my God _“He’s still alive, but you gotta come now”

My brow shot to my hairline, mouth falling ajar, and eyes shooting to Lori.

She gaped like a fish out of water, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing in disbelief.

“_ Rick needs you, just come _!”

Lori’s backpack hit the ground with a thud and was already getting on the horse before Daryl could get two words out.

“Whoa whoa whoa, we don’t know this girl. You can’t get on that horse-” he tried to stop Lori without touching her.

I grabbed Daryl’s arm and shook my head. Nothing he— or anyone says is gonna change Lori’s mind about going with this woman, rightfully so.

If what she says is true, it’s worth the risk.

“Rick said you had others on the highway. That big traffic snarl?” she looked at Glenn.

“Uh-huh” Glenn nodded in a complete daze, chest heaving from running.

“Backtrack to Fairburn road. Two miles down is our farm. You’ll see the mailbox, the name’s Greene. _ Hiyah _!” And just like that, the two rode off into the woods, leaving the rest of us standing here like a deer in headlights.

All eyes staring after the horse even after it was long gone.

I spotted Andrea in the dirt several feet from back the way she came. Her face twisted in shock.

I moved around Daryl, going to her side and normally I would’ve crouched to see if she’s okay but under the circumstances I offered my hand instead, giving her a once over as she stared at my palm.

She stared at my hand, reaching him to take it when growls came over my shoulder.

I turned sharply and before I got two inches the pain in my neck twinging and my eyelids slammed shut, stopping the action mid-turn.

I turned my shoulders, enough to side-eye the walker with a chunk of missing forehead sit up.

“Shut up” Daryl put a bolt through its head nonchalantly as he strode towards Andrea and I, offering his hand as well.

Andrea took both our hands, pulling herself to her feet and my hand stung with the contact of her sweaty grip, making my jaw clench long after she let go.

I curled my fingers into a fist in an attempt to stop or lessen the sting and gave her the same concerned, questioning gaze Daryl’s shot my way every few minutes since my flight.

She gave an unconvincing nod but she doesn’t have any bites or scratches as far as I can tell, so either she’s scared or in shock; Probably both.

We’ve all had near-death experiences before, but nothing like this. She needs to lay down lest she goes into shock, but not out here. God no. We’re not far from the highway, I’ll have to keep an eye on her until we make it back.

I side-eyed Daryl, actually remembering the shooting pain in my throbbing neck for a change, and he returned the look with a short nod.

He jerked his head towards the trees, touching my elbow with his finger in a silent indication of ‘come on’.

I laid my hand on Andrea’s back as we started walking, Carol and Glenn waiting until we caught up to them to start moving.

Daryl was right. We’re whittling down into smaller and smaller groups.

* * *

“Shot? What do you mean shot?” Dale walked towards us as Glenn helped me step over the guardrail.

“I don’t know Dale. I wasn’t there. All I know is this chick rode out of nowhere like Zorro on a horse and took Lori.” Breathe Glenn. I know you’re freaked out but breathe.

“You let her?” Dale cast an accusing look at Daryl while he and Carol stepped over the rail, followed by Andrea.

“Climb down out of my ass, old man. Rick sent her. She knew Lori’s name, and Carl’s.” Daryl brushed past me going towards the RV.

“I heard screams. Was that you?“ Dale asked Andrea as she pushed past him; not giving him the time of day.

“She got attacked by a walker. It was a close call.” Glenn answered for her.

I’m really trying not to be insensitive but she is tap-dancing on my last nerve. You lived, you’re fine. See the glass half full for once; Take the win, for God’s sakes. You don’t have so much as a scratch. Carl got _ shot _, and we don’t know if Rick and Shane are okay either.

“Andrea, are you alright?” Dale called after her. She stopped at the RV side door and turned back with the hate of a thousand years packed behind a glower.

I glanced at Dale before the RV door slamming made me jerk. Wow...ok, I’m out of this pissing contest. I don’t have the patience for this shit right now.

I trudged towards Daryl, and pulled myself up on the hood of Carol’s car. It was a bit more difficult than usual, considering, but it beats sitting on the ground, or blocking the RV steps.

I’m glad I didn’t decide to hop on the truck hood by the motorcycle. I barely got myself up on this thing and it’s only 4 feet off the ground.

“You good?” Daryl came over, leaning against the car next to me.

I nodded, humming in response.

Note to self: running is a bad idea, so is sitting up, walking, using any upper body strength at all, and breathing too deeply.

My side is killing me.

I used my elbow to ease myself into laying back, resting against the windshield. What I wouldn’t give for an actual bed right now. A soft memory foam one, with big puffy silk covers, and feather pillows.

Mm, just thinking about it makes me tired.

I let my eyes drift closed but even if I was dead on my feet right now, I wouldn’t be able to.

About ten minutes later, Daryl pushed off the hood as the others started discussing the farm that girl told us about, but he didn’t go far.

He won’t admit it, but you can’t hide it from these sharp eyes, Dixon. You’re a worrier.

Worried about Sophia, worried about everyone splitting up, worried about more people getting lost and maybe killed.

You’re worried about what happens next, and about my stupid ass falling out of that tree. And I know, because you can’t sit still when you’re worried. Like you’re doing right now. Shifting on your feet, gaze flitting around. Anxious, tense, restless.

The others may not see it, and you’re admittedly very good at hiding behind a scowl, but you’re an open book to me.

“I won’t do it. We can’t just leave.” Carol refused.

“Carol, the group is split. We’re scattered and weak.” Dale argued, leaning against the RV’s wide open side door.

“What if she comes back, and we’re not here?” her voice cracked, a mother’s desperation dripping from every word.

“It could happen” Carol’s voice dropped to a broken mumble. Holding out hope that’s dying fast in others.

“If Sophia found her way back and we were gone, that would be _ awful _” Andrea acknowledged her point.

Daryl nodded, chewing the inside of his bottom lip. “Okay. We got a plan for this. I say tomorrow morning’s soon enough to pull up stakes. Give us a chance to rig a big sign, leave her some supplies.”

Carol shifted, the ghost of a grateful smile cast Daryl’s way. She isn’t happy about the idea of leaving and she has every right to be.

I’m glad I don’t have kids right now, they all seem to be getting the short end of the stick. Carl getting shot, Sophia getting lost, meanwhile we can’t do anything but wander these accursed woods, pray Carl’s gonna be okay, and hope we get lucky.

I can’t imagine how scared she must be. Seeing monsters behind every fleeting movement, hearing them with every faint noise. Not being able to do anything but run, and hide...hoping and wishing for someone to save you.

“I’ll hold here tonight. Stay with the RV.” Daryl’s gesture to the RV brought me back into the conversation.

“If the RV’s staying, I am too.” Dale declared without missing a beat.

“Thank you. Thank you both.” Carol nodded, casting grateful smiles to the both of them. Daryl returned her nod with a brief one of his own before looking to Andrea.

“...I’m in” Andrea smiled weakly.

“Well, if you’re all staying then I’m—”

“No, not you Glenn. You’re going. Take- take Carol’s cherokee.” Dale interrupted the pizza boy before he finished.

“Me?” Glenn laughed humorlessly, “Why’s it always me?”

I wouldn’t bother Glenn. People have asked themselves that for _ centuries _and have yet to find an answer.

“We have to find this farm, _ reconnect _with our people, and find out what’s going on but most important, you have to get T-Dog there.” Dale stated firmly.

“This is not an option. That cut has gone from _ bad _ to worse, he has a _ very. serious. _blood infection. Get him to that farm...see if they have any antibiotics, because if not...T-Dog will die, no joke.”

Who would joke about something like that nowadays? Aside from facetious assholes(like myself unfortunately) who are the one’s about to get their string cut.

I watched Daryl shift, turning like he was going to move but stopped, then decided to do it anyway. Walking to his motorcycle, he swiped a rag off of it -tossing Dale a scowl- before digging through the side bag and jerking out a plastic sack.

“Keep your oily rags off my brother’s motorcycle” Daryl threw the cloth at Dale’s chest with a _ snap _ before dropping the bag next to me on the hood.

“Why’d you wait till now to say anything? Got my brother’s stash.” I watched Daryl dig through the bag.

That’s a lot of drugs, by any standard, let alone for one person. No wonder Merle’s brain was— is scrambled. I always thought he might be a little gone in the head but...I didn’t expect to be _ right _.

“Crystal, X. Don’t need that.” Daryl pulled a bottle out of the bag and read the label before tossing it to Glenn, who caught it reflexively. “Some kickass painkillers.”

You see that, that right there is what makes me wonder about pizza boy.

“Doxycycline” Daryl pulled out another prescription bottle and tossed it to Dale, who barely caught it. “Not the generic stuff, neither. It’s first class.”

“Merle got the clap on occasion.”Daryl shrugged off the comment like it was entirely normal to tell people that. He picked up the sack, taking it back to the motorcycle. 

I could have lived without that information. _ Eh—!! _or that picture. God— Why would you do this to me, Daryl!?

I clenched my teeth to keep from laughing while everyone else exchanged disgusted glances.

“Eve, you go with those two.” Daryl came back towards me.

“Why is she going?” Dale asked as I tried to sit up suddenly, a sharp burning in my torso preventing me from doing so. I tried to shake my head in protest but had to stop after only one turn. Oh god, I shouldn’t have laid back, my back’s stinging like I jumped off the high dive and smacked into the pool.

“That’s why” Daryl pointed at me and I scowled at him, clenching my fist.

“What happened?” Dale looked to the others for clarification, an abrupt flare of concern being cast my way.

“Casper here fell out of a tree.” Glenn explained.

Dale looked at me like a concerned parent and I put my hand up, signaling he shouldn’t be. Hoping he wasn’t focusing on my clenched fist on the hood.

It’s not as bad as they’re making it out to be.

A new bloom of pain spread from the base of my spine as I tried to slide off the hood.

_ I hope. _


	28. Chapter 28

I had a little trouble getting into the car and Daryl was sure to laugh at me, well as close as he gets to laughing -which is pretty much just a scoff and head shake- before lending me a hand and I was sure to elbow him in the leg for finding amusement in my pain once I was in.

He passed me my backpack and I nodded as thanks, side-eyeing him from inside the car.

He closed the door _ —probably to keep me from escaping _ — and as Glenn pulled out I gave him a mock salute and stuck out my tongue, to which he shook his head with that _ almost _ smile.

* * *

We reached the farm after dark. Mostly because Glenn missed the turn...twice.

I got out of the car before Glenn could and opened the gate, letting him drive through before I closed and latched it and got back in; not as much trouble as the first time but it still hurt like a skateboard the shins.

Glenn parked the car a distance from the house under a tree in the driveway, and we all got out.

Going up to the steps, Glenn and T stopped in front of me; eyes set on a set of red drips on the top step.

“So do we ring the bell? I mean it looks like people live here.” Glenn looked back at me as if I had the answer.

I put my hand on his shoulder, and he looked to T as he said, “We’re past this kind of stuff, aren’t we?”

“Having to be considerate.” T-Dog swayed in his step as they started up the steps and I noticed that girl from earlier sitting on the porch.

I broke off without notice and went around to look at her. 

They reached the top of the stairs and I came up on the other side of the girl who was watching them in mild amusement from the faded green rocking chair against the house.

“You close the gate up the road when you drove in?” she made her presence known to them and they stopped to look at her.

“Uh, hi...” Glenn started awkwardly. “Yes, we closed it. Did the latch and everything.”

She dropped her legs down off the chair and leaning against her elbows on her knees.

“Hello. Nice to see you again” Glenn made a lame attempt at being polite. She didn’t respond and he shook his head slightly, “We, ah, met before...briefly.”

So it wasn’t just me he wasn’t smooth with. I wonder, does he have this kind of trouble talking to all new women he meets?

“Look, we came to help. There anything we can do—” T-Dog grunted painfully.

“It’s not a bite. I uh...I cut myself pretty bad though.” T-Dog reassured the girl.

“We’ll have it looked at. I’ll tell ‘em yer here.” She stood, and went to open the door.

“We have uh, some painkillers and antibiotics” Glenn pulled out the pills from his backpack. “I already gave him some.” he gestured to T-Dog, sparing him a glance. “If Carl needs any...”

“Come on inside, I’ll make you something to eat.” She opened the door and turned to go in first but jumped out of her skin when she saw me, a short scream escaped her lips.

“Oh— that’s Eve.” Glenn was quick to make sure she didn’t panic, thinking I’m a walker. I lifted my hands in surrender, offering the best disarming smile I could.

“She does that a lot. I guess we should have warned you...”Glenn trailed off awkwardly.

Her eyes fixed on my hands, reminding me of the scratches spanning my palms.

She swallowed, eyeing me again before opening the door fully and letting us in.

I motioned for T-Dog to go ahead of me and closed the door behind myself when we were all inside.

It’s always weird being in a stranger’s house. Gives my gut the flutters. It smells different than the city. Clean, and old; slight hints of fresh cut grass, fruit trees, and dust.

“What is she? Yer bodyguard or somethin’?” the girl lead us through to the living room. It’s old and homey; faded paint and furniture well used, but well taken care of.

“I wish. Then I could sleep without one eye open. No, she uh— fell out of a tree. Tweaked her neck, scraped her hands pretty bad, been having trouble breathing.”

I looked at Glenn, almost too quickly. How the _ goblin toes _ does he know about my breathing?

Glenn glanced at my , shifting evasively and directed his eyes back to the girl.

She led us to the room where Carl was resting and the second I walked through the door, my stomach dropped into my boots, sinking through the ground; a perpetual state of falling.

“Hey” Glenn muttered, dragging off his hat.

Rick and Lori looked up from the other side of the room, next to their son’s bedside.

“Hey” Rick replied hoarsely. He looks as bad as I feel. His normal peachy skin taken on pallor, brow slicked with sweat, police shirt open stained with red, eyes tired and unfocused like he hasn’t slept in weeks, a red puff under his eyes but not the sort that comes from crying; the sort that makes him look like a drug addict. The living breathing definition of wan.

Carl laid in the white sheets, a bloodied bandage on his side contrasting starkly with the drained pallor of his body, hauntingly similar to his father’s.

“Um...we’re here, okay?” Glenn swallowed, staring remorsefully at Carl.

I know you mean well Glenn, and it’s good to let them know they’re not in this alone, but there are no words aside from ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ that will make this better right now.

“Thank you” Lori nodded to him, fiddling with her necklace. Rick barely glanced at us, rubbing his head with his hand.

“Whatever you need” T-Dog let them know before he and Glenn somberly shuffled out of the room.

Rick dragged a tired hand down his worry riddled face as the doctor peeled the blanket down below Carl’s stomach to rest on the boy’s hips.

A sharp influx of breath burned my torso at the sight of the swelling purple and blue of Carl’s stomach, around the bandage, spreading all the way to the other side of his abdomen.

The wooden floorboards made light squeaks as my feet carried me behind Rick and Lori’s seats. I set gentle hands on their shoulders giving a reassuring squeeze to the both of them.

Lori placed her hand over the top of mine, squeezing as tight as her strength would allow, and Rick leaned slightly into my touch but remained hunched over, holding his son’s hand. A horrid weight of guilt rolling from his composure.

There’s nothing else I can do for them but God I wish there was.

I’m not a parent— nor have ever been or had the desire to be. I can’t imagine how it feels to see your child hurt or injured let alone have the loom of death hanging over their heads, but… Carl is the nephew I never would have had, if it weren’t for the downfall of civilization.

“They don’t get back soon, we’re gonna have a decision to make.” the old achromatic haired doctor’s eyes shifted between the two.

“And that is?” Rick’s pinky rested so close to his mouth it looked like he was chewing on it but too invested in the doctor’s words to actually do so.

“Whether to operate on your boy without the respirator.” he blinked between the parents, catching my gaze only once in the rapid flickering.

“You said that wouldn’t work.” Lori sounded as if she was holding her breath while she spoke.

“I know. It’s extremely unlikely.” his blue eyes flitted between them and Carl. “But we can’t wait much longer.”

Lori hastily let go of my hand, dropping the hand that was on her husband’s shoulder and all but fled from the room.

Rick sat up from his hunched position slowly, watching the doc delicately move Carl’s blanket back up over his distended tummy.

Rick attempted to stand but teetered and I grabbed his bicep, giving him the sturdiness he needed to go after his wife, he glanced at me on his way; a look of something between gratitude, and pleading.

I don’t know exactly what it was, but I can take a guess.

I watched him leave the room and took his place in the seat beside Carl’s bed, taking the boy’s unsettlingly cold hand in mine. The dull sting of my scrapes was easy to push out of mind, as long as I stayed with Carl.

I really hope they’re not at odds; for Carl’s sake, if not their own.

The prospect of losing a child is not something people handle well, and I don’t think they should, but I also don’t think they should give up on him yet.

Carl’s a tough kid, like his parents. Tenacious and unwavering. He won’t give up without a fight.

* * *

I combed damp brown strands off Carl’s cold, sweat-slicked forehead with my long scratched up fingers.

_ Come on, kid. You’ve got too much to live for to go now. _

The corner of my lip turned up as the memory of Carl falling out of that truck came flooding to the surface. The look on his face, the laugh we had afterwards.

Tell you what, kiddo. _ When _you wake up, I’ll teach you how to climb trees. I know it may not look like i’d be the best teacher at the moment, but trust me, this was a fluke.

I could teach you how to do that card trick you like, or maybe we’ll recruit Glenn and I’ll teach you two how to play blackjack. You can show Glenn what a proper poker face looks like. Sound good?

My tongue darted out, running over my cracked, salty bottom lip to pull it into my mouth where my teeth could rake over it almost painfully.

Rick and Lori came back before long, sitting outside the door just over my shoulder, opposite of the one I came through earlier. From the looks on their faces, they were definitely fighting.

About what, I can’t say, but they need to get their shit together because if they don’t, I will. And trust me my way won’t be pleasant, but it won’t be fragile by the time I’m done with it either.

They sat in silence, the only sounds being inhales & exhales of varying weights from the 4 adults and one child.

The doctor sat on the other side of Carl’s bedside, exchanging glances with me every so often.

I continued to hold Carl’s hand, rubbing soothing circles with my thumb, and occasionally using the cloth on the nightstand to dab away the sweat glistening on Carl’s forehead.

Silence is something I’m not used to being painful, and heavy. Weighing down my shoulders like storm clouds around mountains.

* * *

A few minutes passed and Carl began coughing. My eyes snapped up from his hand, bugging out of my head as the door behind me opened in less than a second and I had about half that to get out of Rick & Lori’s way before they took my place next to Carl.

I stood at the foot of the bed, hands gripping the metal bed frame as I watched his eyes peel open.

“Where are we?” His eyes flicked between the faces in the room.

“Hey, little man. That’s Hershel. We’re in his house.” Rick explained gently. “You had an accident. All right?”

Carl looked down at his stomach, face twisting in pain. “It hurts, _ a lot _”

“Oh, baby. I know. I know” Lori ran her fingers through Carl’s hair, moving it around, trying to soothe her baby boy.

“You should have seen it” Carl smiled at his mother.

“What?” she breathed, confused.

“The deer” Carl clarified, fingers tightening and untightening on the rim of the blanket. Carl looked at me and I smiled.

“It was so pretty, mom. It was so close.” He looked back at his mom, “I’ve never been...”

His face went slack and my heart stopped beating.

“_ Carl _?” Rick asked, but there was no answer.

“What’s happening?” Lori asked, the panic in the room rising by the millisecond.

Carl suddenly jerked and they both went to grab him but Hershel stopped them, “Don’t. It’s a seizure. If you hold him down, you could hurt him.”

Hershel turned Carl on his side.

“You can’t stop it?” they both backed off. My fists clenched so tightly I felt the cuts reopen and begin to bleed, but my nails dug in further. I don’t even know when I let go of the frame.

“He has to just go through it” Hershel answered as calmly as he could.

Lori grabbed onto Rick, clinging to him—crying while Carl spasmed on the bed.

My fists tightened beyond white knuckles until my hands began to tingle but didn’t loosen even after the seizure passed, and blood was dripping between my fingers.

Hershel looked at Carl’s eyes immediately once it was over, and Lori & Rick were back Carl’s side in the blink of an eye.

“His brain isn’t gettin’ enough blood. His pressure’s bottoming. He needs another transfusion.” Hershel concluded

“Okay I’m ready.” Rick stated, holding out his arm.

“If I take any more out of you, your body could shut down. You could go into a coma.” _ That’s nothing new _. “Or cardiac arrest.”

“You’re wasting time.” Rick almost growled, stretching his arm out farther.

Hershel grabbed a bottle but before he was about to stick the needle into Rick’s arm, I pushed Rick’s wrist and hiked up my sleeve, holding out mine.

Hershel and the Grimes’ looked at me almost accusingly as I stated, “O negative”

Recognition and almost relief flooded Hershel's face.

“It’s fortunate you showed up.” Hershel didn’t hesitate to prep my arm and stick the needle into my skin.

I hate needles, but for Carl’s sake, I can bury it so deep not even the best pirate in the world would be able to find it with both hands and a gps.

“What are you doing?” Lori hissed.

“O negative is the universal donor. They can give and receive blood from any type.” Hershel answered as he pushed me to sit down next to Rick, in Lori’s previous seat.

I watched the red liquid flow through the tube, keeping my thoughts away from the fact i’ve been impaled and towards the fact that Carl will have more time.

Two blood bags is better than one.

Rick stared at me with gratitude words couldn’t express. Lori’s expression melting into the same a moment later.

I gave a brief nod in return, putting my free hand on his shoulder to let him know everything was gonna be alright.

Just like Daryl said, It’s gonna be _ just fine _.


	29. Chapter 29

After the transfusion, Hershel seemed to have noticed my inability to turn my head whenever I attempted to glance at Lori, whose hand was firmly placed on my shoulder.

I’d already gotten scolded about my hands; It wasn’t difficult to notice the fresh blood on my palms after the initial panic of helping Carl. Apparently digging your fingernails into barely scabbed wounds makes them bleed again.

“Come out here for a moment.” Hershel motioned at me after he’d finished removing the— thing from my arm.

I rolled my shoulder, trying not to shiver, and pushed out all thoughts about what had been inside my arm. Carl got what he needs from me, that’s what’s important.

My stomach rolled a little as I stood up; slower than I should have for someone who just gave as much blood as I did, and this sharp old man definitely noticed the grimace I tried so hard to disguise.

I pat Rick on the shoulder and squeezed Lori’s hand before I followed the doc out of the room.

Hershel had me follow him into the dining room and bandaged up my hands before taking a look at my neck.

“Turn your head for me” Hershel’s calloused fingers reached for my neck and I jerked back.

He put his hands up much the same way Rick does when showing he doesn’t mean any harm. Hershel reminds me a little of Dale in that regard.

I ducked my head, clearing my throat and looked back up stiffly; allowing Hershel to touch my neck. Though no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop myself from trying to lean away. Having a stranger's hands on —or anywhere near— my neck is disconcerting to say the least. Doctor or not.

Hershel motioned for me to turn my head, feeling around my spine and pressing on the sore muscles. I did turn but didn’t let my eyes off him.

It feels weird and  _ definitely hurt  _ in places but nowhere near as much as my ribs do right now. Starting like that before brought on a new bought of searing throbbing.

“You got lucky. It’s just a muscle bruise near a nerve cluster. It’ll heal up on its own in a few days. It’ll be sore for awhile. Try not to aggravate it. Now lift your shirt please. Let me see about those bruises.”

I lifted my shirt without resistance this time(as long as his hands get away from my neck), so he could poke and prod at my torso.

The sharp intakes, and horror stricken faces of the blonde woman, T-Dog, and the porch girl(who I’m 45% sure is sweet on Glenn), aren’t helping my attempt at a positive outlook.

Hershel barely put any pressure on my ribs before I grabbed his wrist with a sharp exhale out my nose.

I let go a second later and tried to bear with it, grinding my teeth as he poked around.  _ Literally. _

“Well, good news is they’re not broken, just cracked. Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do for these either. They’ll heal on their own in a few weeks but we’ll see about something for the pain in the meantime.”

“Maggie, could you get her some painkillers and fix her something to eat? Make sure she drinks some water.”

“Course” Porch girl  _ Maggie _ nodded, motioning for me to follow her and I stood before doing just that.

I watched her shake out a few pills from a bottle of ibuprofen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it in the sink before handing both to me.

I popped the pills into my mouth, and as soon as the cool water hit my throat I chugged the whole thing. God I didn’t realize how thirsty I was. Or how good tap water tastes.

Maggie fixed me a sandwich, eyeing me through her eyelashes every few seconds while she spread jam on a piece of bread.

I wonder if she’s assuming I can read minds.

“You’re not much of a talker are ya?”

Finally, I was starting to think she was never gonna speak up.

The corners of my mouth lifted and I gave a limited head shake.

Maggie set the sandwich in front of me and I most certainly did not marvel at the use of a plate before less than gracefully shoving half the sandwich in my mouth. I haven’t eaten since this morning before we left the RV.

I never thought I’d miss peanut butter so much. The thick creamy substance tastes like pure heaven on my tongue. If I could make my own peanut butter nowadays I would eat everything with it. Lord knows it’d make 90% of this stuff taste better.

I smiled gratefully around a mouthful and Maggie returned it with her own slightly amused as I followed her back out to the other room, plate in hand.

Maggie looked out the window and wandered outside as I sat down to devour this peanut, strawberry goodness.

Hold up, is that Glenn on the porch?

My cheek muscles strained with the grin on my lips, watching Maggie sneak up on him.

Maybe he does need a bodyguard.

After I finished the sandwich(in record time), I washed the plate  _ —with _ gloves so I don’t get yelled at for soiling the fresh, clean bandages— and stopped to admire the running water.

It’s the little things in life you miss the most, isn’t it? Running water, a mattress, peanut butter, heated water, having more than two changes of clothes. A sense of familiarity.

Honestly I’m jealous. They still live in their house. They still have all their belongings. The little things they’ve collected over the years, things with memories that aren’t attached to death or pain, guilt or sorrow.

A stampede of footsteps had me shutting off the water and spinning on my heel in one quick flourish, going through the other room to see everyone rushing out the door.

I caught up with T-Dog standing in the front doorway, and everyone else was moving towards a blue truck where Shane all but fell out of the cabin, limping, with two giant bags on his shoulders.

I can see his chest heaving from the porch 30 feet away.

Hershel and Glenn took the heavy bags from him, Glenn nearly dropping his at the unexpected weight.

“Otis?” Hershel looked around before halting on Shane as I made it down the staircase.

Shane’s empty stare fixed on him, and he hung his head. The shake he gave barely noticeable.

“No” he breathed, eyes flicking between Glenn, Hershel, the ground, not focusing on anything.

A heavy silence weighed the atmosphere like a car in a river; souring the relief from moments before.

“We say nothing to Patricia.” Hershel turned back and forth, struggling with which way to go, pain tingeing his voice. “Not till after.”

“I need her.” he headed for the porch steps, rushing back inside; followed by Glenn.

Shane looked everywhere, movements fidgety and trembling but not from fear. From hyper-awareness. I’ve seen it often enough in my time to recognize the distinction.

Wide unblinking eyes, no trouble boring into Rick’s eyes.

Rick stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Shane. Shane stared at the ground over his shoulder, hands rising meekly; that’s when they began to shake. Right after he looked at Lori next to me.

Rick pulled back, and Shane’s gaze dropped to nothing on the ground.

“They kept blocking us it was...  _ every turn _ ” Shane breathed, so low I almost couldn’t hear him.

“We had nothing left. We were down to 10 rounds.” Shane swayed back and forth on his feet, like the slightest noise would send him running again.

“Then he said— he said he’d cover me and I should keep going.” Shane jabbed his finger towards the ground. “So that’s what I did. I just—...”

He looked at Rick, “I kept going.” his eyes directed to the side, “But I—”

The muscles in his face contracted like he was angry but his eyes remained blown wide, throwing it off into something indiscernible.

“I looked back and he—” Shane shook his head, again looking anywhere but at Rick. “Just—”

I set my hand on Maggie’s trembling shoulder and Lori stepped closer to her, rubbing her back the way a mother comforts a child.

“I tried” Shane mumbled, the adrenaline looking like it’s finally dissipating.

Rick stepped forward, placing his hand on Shane’s shoulder in an effort to comfort. “He wanted to make it right.”

Shane stared at him, nodding, and pulled his hand over his mouth.

I turned, giving Maggie’s shoulder a squeeze before heading back into the house.

I don’t know who Otis is but Carl has a chance now; whoever he is— or was...thank you.


	30. Chapter 30

I don’t know when it was, but at some point I must have fallen asleep on the couch because I opened my eyes to sunlight.

It’s early.  _ Very  _ early.

Standing up, I swayed a bit before regaining my balance.

Every muscle in my body is sore but I languidly made my way to Carl’s room anyway.

Lori and Rick sat next to him in the chairs, they look like they haven’t moved since last night, while Hershel was checking his blood pressure once again.

Relief flooded my chest, rushing out in a sigh at the sight of Carl’s open eyes. He’s finally awake.

“They’re here” T-Dog rushed up behind me, startling me.

Rick’s gaze met mine and I nodded, already knowing what he wanted.

I took their place by Carl’s side, letting them go inform the others just arriving.

Alone, I sat down next to Carl, toeing off my shoes and put my feet up on the bed, next to his cold toes.

Carl stared at me for a bit before asking, “What happened to your hands?”

I made a climbing motion and he smiled.

“You fell, huh?” smiling all too knowingly for someone who’s known me for less than a year, and was nowhere near me when it happened.

Making a mock offended face, I realized he was right and blew some of my hair out of my face in defeat.

You’re going places kid. If it were possible to be so, you’re too smart for your own good.

* * *

Carl and I talked— interacted for a while, until he fell asleep again. I didn’t realize how exhausted this whole ordeal has been until now.

It’s hard to believe all this happened in the span of a single day.

Rick came back in a few minutes after Carl drifted off; Although to be honest I thought he was Daryl with how heavy his footfalls are.

It’s amazing what blood loss and exceeding stress will do to a person in such a short period.

“We’re having a funeral for Otis...would you mind staying with Carl?”

I nodded without hesitation. I don’t think I could stand long enough for a funeral if I tried.

He and Lori both should be at the funeral. Otis saved their child, the least they can do is see him off. Pay their respects. But Carl can’t be left alone; God forbid something else happens.

* * *

Carl woke up again while they were gone and I sat up, letting my feet fall.

I watched him look around the room before he fixed on me again. I smiled and moved some of his hair off his forehead. He’s in desperate need of a wash up. Not that I’m much better.

“Where’s my dad?”

I glanced at the door, biting the inside of my cheek. I ran my tongue over my lip, looking back at him.

...He doesn’t need to know about the funeral yet. It can wait until he’s recovered a bit more. Last thing he needs is guilt on top of worry on top of injury.

When he’s on his feet again we can take him to the grave, if he wants.

The corner of my lip lifted and I pointed to the door; hoping he takes it to mean he’s just in the other room.

He doesn’t push it, though for a second he bit his lip looking at the door like he wanted to.

* * *

I set the coin on Carl’s shoulder while directing his attention to his hand with a tap of my finger.

He uncurled his fingers revealing an empty palm and smiled, looking between me and his fingers.

“How’d you do that? Where’d it go?”

I nodded at his shoulder and he lost his shit.

Laughing, smiling.

“Can you teach me how to do that?” He begged, eyes gleaming with anticipation.

“Carl, let’s save that for later, okay baby?” Lori came from the doorway and sat next to her son; the bed dipping under her weight.

Ohp, mother has spoken.

I chuckled and messed up Carl’s hair as I stood, leaving the coin with him.

I left the two alone, making my way out the front door to get some fresh air.

The RV, other cars, sat in the driveway in front of the house. I almost forgot they were here already.

A steady smile pulled at my lips and like an idiot, I jumped the steps to the ground, forgetting I’m not physically capable of that right now.

I stumbled forward awkwardly, my fingers grazing the dirt before I regained my balance and came to a stop.

I didn’t think giving just one unit of blood would affect me this much —especially since I slept off the exhaustion. Maybe that’s it, maybe I’m just tired.

The throb in my rib cage would suggest otherwise though. My hand cradled my side.

I stood there waiting for the stinging pain to pass, and it passed quicker than I thought it would. The bruising must not have been as bad as it looked, cause it’s too easy to forget about it now.

It doesn’t hurt when I turn or walk, but apparently jumping from 5 feet up onto solid ground isn’t the best idea.

Thank the stars I’ve always been a fast healer. I’m just glad it doesn’t hurt to breathe anymore. I can deal with the dull ache everything’s faded to but breathing is essential.

My eyes wandered over the property until I spotted Rick and a few others crowded around the hood of Carol’s Cherokee. One of them being, Daryl with his crossbow.

There’s only one reason he’d have his crossbow on him  _ in _ camp. They must be going to look for Sophia.

I made my across the yard once I could walk -relatively- unhindered again, coming up behind Hershel.

“We’ll grid the whole area. Start searching in teams.”

“Not you, not today. You gave 2 units of blood and you’ve barely slept. You wouldn’t be hiking five minutes in this heat before passin’ out.” Hershel refuted, turning his attention to Shane, “And your ankle, push it now and you’ll be laid up a month. No good to anybody.”

Daryl glanced up and locked eyes with me. “Bout time you showed, Sunshine.”

Hershel looked over his shoulder and jumped, seeing me. I gave an apologetic smile.

Andrea, Shane, Daryl, and Rick all nodded to me; some flashing a brief smile. I mirrored the gesture, leaning on my elbows against the hood next to the doctor.

“Guess it’s just Eve and me.” Daryl reached over to the map, pointing to a creek. “I’ma head back to the creek. Work my way from there.”

I reached over to the map and traced my finger over an area I had a good feeling about. Rick nodded, understanding.

“No it won’t.” Hershel interrupted. “You gave blood too, on top of being injured as well. You’re not going anywhere”

Oh, yeah,  _ try and sto _ —

“Try and stop her”

I blinked at Daryl, once, twice, three times.

Kay, that was...weird doesn’t feel like the right word but I have no others. He legitimately just read my mind; Literally voiced my thoughts.

Rick sighed, and I directed my attention to him, already staring at me.

“Daryl has a point.” he shook his head, directing his gaze to Hershel beside me.

“No use trying to stop ‘er, she’ll find a way to get out there one way or another.” Shane chimed in, glancing to the side and rubbing his newly shaved head(since when did he shave it?).

Aww, the boys are finally learning. I flashed a toothy grin. Besides, let’s be honest, I’m in better condition to go out than Rick or Shane but not in bad enough condition to not go.

A meal and an 18 hour straight nap(best sleep I’ve had in too damn long) will do wonders for even major bruising.

“I can still be useful. Drive up to the interstate, see if Sophia wandered back.” Shane volunteered. With any luck that’s exactly what she’s done.

“Alright. Tomorrow then...we’ll start doing this right.” Rick stated, his stance suggesting he’s not happy about the delay in being able to help.

“That means we can’t have our people out there with just knives. We need the gun trainin’ we been promising.” Shane raised and Andrea perked up considerably at the mention of guns.

Somebody’s trigger happy.

Hershel shifted like a disapproving parent. “I’d prefer you not carrying guns on my property. We’ve managed so far without turning this into an armed camp.”

“No offense but you get a crowd of those things wandering in here” Of course Shane protested.

I hate to agree but it’s time.

We may never get another opportunity like this before it’s too late. The more people we have who can shoot and fight, the better our chances are in the long run.

Rick shook his head, “We’re guests here. This is your property, and we  _ will _ respect that.”

Rick put his gun on the hood, looking at Shane pointedly. He scoffed but put his piece on the hood as well.

“First things first. Set camp, find Sophia.” Rick started.

“I hate to be the one to ask but somebody’s got to” Shane leaned against the hood, on strained arms. “What happens if we find her and she’s bit. I think we should all be clear on how we handle that.”

Rick downcast his eyes to his shoes, “You do what has to be done.”

“And her mother? What do you tell her?” porch girl— Maggie interjected. I didn’t even notice her before. She stands like she’s one of us, my brain just skipped over her.

“The truth” Andrea stated.

“I’ll gather up and secure all the weapons. Make sure nobody’s carrying until we’re at a practice range off sight. I do  _ request _ one rifleman on look out. Dale’s got experience.” Shane looked to Hershel who does not look willing to negotiate this. Stubborn guy, isn’t he?

“Our people would feel safer.” Rick turned to him, almost imposingly and I took half a step back, not wanting to be caught in the middle of their stare down. “ _ Less inclined to carry a gun _ .”

Hershel finally gave in and nodded, and Rick thanked him curtly.

Just like that, everyone began walking away from the car. Daryl and Shane walked around and I fell into step next to Daryl.

“We should stick together ‘til we get to the creek, be safer that way.” he glanced at me, giving me a once over. Probably sweeping for any hindrance and with his eagle sight I don’t doubt he could find it if I have one.

I nodded and jabbed my thumb at the house, motioning around my waist with my other hand to bring attention to the fact that I don’t have half my gear.

He nodded before I jogged up the steps and went to the living room to grab my pack and my knives. I’ve still got my gun but I’m not gonna hand it over until we get back.

Daryl waited for me around the side of the house while I grabbed my gear and once I came out, buckling my thigh strap, he started walking.

Rick was waiting on the front steps for us though and called out to Daryl.

Daryl stopped, turning to Rick striding towards us.

I waved slightly to Rick before tapping Daryl’s shoulder and nodding towards the forest.

He got my message and I went towards the treeline to wait for him while he and Rick talk.

Rick didn’t call out to me, so I’m assuming it’s gonna be a somewhat private chat. What about? I’ve no idea but I’ve got a feeling it’s between the two of them, judging by the way Rick was looking at him.

I don’t think he’s mad but...I could be wrong. His anger isn’t as easy to read as say, a Dixon’s or Andrea’s.

A couple quick minutes later, Daryl caught up to me.

That was fast, I haven’t even gotten close to the forest yet.

I side-eyed Daryl, hoping to glean something about their talk but he doesn’t look any more annoyed than usual, no more tense, I guess it wasn’t as serious a talk as I thought.

Maybe Rick was trying to bury a hatchet or something?

My ankle rolled on a rock I didn’t notice and I stumbled to the side but didn’t fall.

Daryl snorted next to me and I tossed a halfhearted glower his way, trying and failing not to smile.

“Watch where ya step, Twinkle Toes.”

Twinkle Toes? What happened to Sunshine?


	31. Chapter 31

We stuck together as planned until we reached our separating point near the creek.

I broke off to go but didn’t get twenty feet before Daryl called, “‘Ey”

Halting, I turned to meet his gaze.

“...Be careful. I ain’t gonna come save ur ass if ya get in trouble.”

A broad smile spread across my face. I nodded, giving him a pointed ‘you too’ look as I started off again.

There are hardly any walkers in these woods. I think the bigger danger will be not getting lost ourselves. I’m not worried about Daryl, he’s Mr. Tracking extraordinaire— I’m worried about me.

“Meet back ‘ere before dark!” Daryl called and I waved my hand in acknowledgement. I don’t know if he saw or not, but I’m gonna assume he did. Besides it’s not like he expects me to answer; verbally at least.

* * *

You can bet your ass I'mma be back before dark. I’m confident I would not be able to find my way back in the dark. I would have to hole up for the night and there are not a lot of places to do that out here from what I can tell.

I’m not much of a tracker but in my opinion I’ve got an excellent memory and sense of direction. I can tell when things look out of place but to be honest, I mostly run off instinct in this regard.

Now that I think about it, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have Daryl teach me a thing or two about tracking. It would certainly come in handy right about now. Not to mention any future endeavors.

I highly doubt this will be the last time a skill such as that will be useful.

It’s only been like an hour or so since we split up. It’s a lot of time to myself and my thoughts; More than I realized.

I wandered past some tracks I recognized to be deer tracks. I might not be a tracker, but I’m versed enough to at least tell the difference between a human footprint and a hoof.

Under any other circumstances, I’d have followed them in the hopes of catching something that _ isn’t _ squirrel(cue involuntary cringe, shiver combo) but I’m not here to hunt.

I can’t risk firing my gun unless it’s life or death anyway, and I doubt even I could get close enough to throw my knife at it. Unless I get ridiculously lucky.

Plus if I did that I’d risk losing my knives; I’ve only got two with me —and they’re my favorites— it would idiotic to risk losing them for a deer I don’t need.

Besides, how would I even get it back to the farm? I’m not exactly capable of lifting a deer, that’s at least my size judging by that print, on my best day; let alone with cracked rib—

A moan stopped me dead in my tracks and my knife automatically raised.

My head was on a swivel, searching for the source. My feet firmly planted to the ground, tense and waiting to react.

Several seconds passed in eerie silence, without so much as a leaf rustling.

My eyes narrowed as I shifted once again. Maybe it wasn’t a moan, but just sounded like one. Could’ve been an animal, or a breeze, or— 

A twig snapped on the other side of the substantial tree beside me.

A bead of cold sweat trickled down my temple as I moved around it, careful not to step on so much as a crusty leaf. Not even my breathing made any noticeable sound.

Even though I expected it— I was prepared for it, I still jumped when a walker came at me the second I stepped around the tree.

It’s much bigger than I expected— at least twice my size.

Backpedaling as fast as I could, trying to avoid its grasp, I stumbled back around the massive tree and this time I was ready when it followed after me.

Sinking my knife into its skull was easy the second time around but it fell forwards, pushing me back as I pulled my knife out.

My boot caught on something and I barely had time to see the massive tree root behind me before the panicked tingle of falling blazed in my gut. Instead of hitting the ground like I expected, I kept falling. My stomach soared into my throat with the sensation, and my heart leapt out of my chest when I hit the water.

It was like landing on an icy pond. The water was freezing and the impact felt like I’ve fallen off a second story deck.

My knife slipped from my fingers, sinking in the frigid murky water before I could grab it.

My lung stung with and I got back to the surface as fast as possible.

As soon as I was up with a flailing splash, the small and thick roots tangled around me like a net.

I jolted backwards, hitting my head when a half a skeletal face snapped its teeth right next to me, narrowly missing my nose.

Roots from the cavern walls wrapped around me, restricting my mobility further with every rapid breath and pounding heartbeat against the inside of my chest.

I pulled on my hand but it was snared so tightly I couldn’t even reach my gun.

The walker was barely a foot opposite of me, tangled in the same roots.

It snapped at me furiously while I tried to reach my other knife.

I could almost feel the vibration of the bones as they clacked together in rapid succession all too close to my face.

The cloudy water lapped against my neck, trying to slosh it’s way into my throat.

My toes scraped what felt like the bottom during my struggle.

The roots tangled around me like thousands of tiny hands, trying to pull me under and bury me alive.

Two simultaneous cracks and half a second was all the warning I got before the walker fell towards me.

I thrashed in the water, instinctively turning my head to the side.

I pressed my back as far as it would go into the crumbling mud behind me, momentarily believing this was it.

Nothing happened and reluctantly I looked out of the corner of my eye.

The loss of those few inches yielded nothing to the cannibalistic monstrosity. It’s still too far to reach me but _ waaay _ too close for comfort.

It’s rotting stench assaulted my senses a hundred times stronger than before.

My heart threatened to break my rib cage from the inside. The water around me was well on its way to sending me into a full blown panic attack every time it clashed against my throat.

I knew I wasn’t gonna reach my knife before that thing managed to pull its arms off and tear into me with sickening green & brown bone that would have once been considered teeth.

My frantic hands pounded around for anything that could possibly increase my chances of survival and not a moment later, my fingers curled around a decent sized root.

I gripped it so tightly my fingers felt numb and pulled with as much strength as I could, all while twisting and bending to weaken it until it finally snapped.

My heart leaped into my throat as I fell forward.

The walker snapped centimeters from my face, so close I could almost feel the scrape of it’s slick slimy teeth on my cheek as I pulled myself back against the caving mud wall.

Psyching myself up with two —_ as steady as possible— _ breaths, I let myself dangerously close to the walker to pull at least _ one _ of my legs free.

Pulling with everything I had, both my legs ripped from the stringy roots; kicking what I can only assume was the walker’s legs in the process.

Tucking my knees to my chest, I slammed my boots against the walker’s collapsing chest.

Bones snapped from the impact. The jagged edges piercing through what skin was left on it as it crushed against the mud wall.

The roots behind me dug into my back. Determined to punch through my jacket, into my skin.

I pulled my arm towards me, finally ripping it free of the roots and my fist —along with the root in my hand— collided into the side of my head.

Pain exploded in my temple, stinging like a swarm of angry wasps while my vision swam. As soon as my sight was clear enough to find the target, I stabbed the root through the walker’s eye-socket.

It’s eyeball squished, congealed blood bursting forth and splattering over my hand, clear up my sleeve to my shoulder.

It’s teeth continued snapping and I broke the stick off, stabbing the remaining end as deep as it would go through the other eye.

It still wasn’t enough.

Wrapping my hands around the roots in one last desperate attempt, I lifted both my legs all the way up until my knees almost touched my shoulders and smashed my heels against its eyes.

A portion of the skull gave way, caving with a gut-wrenching crunch and near-black blood oozed out.

Choking smells overwhelmed what little fresh air was in the cavity but I slammed my feet against it three more times; each time harder than the last, until I was satisfied it was dead. For good.

Burning pains wracking my already aching chest cavity, I let my feet splash back into the water, dropping like stones and the walker hung like a morbid Halloween decoration across from me.

My limbs grew heavier with every heave my lungs burdened me with. The stinging in my head leapt to the foreground. The smell stewing in the space so nauseating I could almost feel the stomach acid in my throat; bile lapping at my stinging throat.

With the immediate threat dealt with, I finally looked around.

My stomach churned, and the water suddenly dropped another 10 degrees.


	32. Chapter 32

My hands started to shake. My heartbeat proving it could go faster yet.

My mouth shrivelled of moisture like the Bonneville salt flats.

My throat closed up but it had nothing to do with the murky water surrounding me.

Dread swelled in my chest and spread like wildfire until it physically hurt and I couldn’t breathe.

Needles pierced the lining of my lungs with every breath.

My head spun and I swayed.

I can’t— I’m about to pass out.

Instead of calming down, like I should have, I started to panic like an animal caught in a net.

I violently pulled myself in every direction that could possibly lead to freedom from the tangling stringy roots, with the newfound wiggle room I’d created.

My skin crawled, overwhelming my brain with sensations of hands, and tiny spiny legs.

Forcing myself free of roots, I sank in an instant. The water rose to my jaw. My feet touched the bottom and I stood on my toes, forcing myself to stop thrashing and let the water settle.

The water stopped just short of my bottom lip. Everywhere I looked increased the urge to violently struggle again.

Thinking fast, I grabbed my locket and brought it up above the water, where I could see it clearly and meticulously began inspecting the small patterns in the metal.

_ Breathe. Just breathe. Don’t think, breathe. _

_ Uh—...oh, that concert I saw for my birthday. _

_ What band was playing? The Script, wasn't it? _

_ The words, remember the words… _

_ She’s stronger than you know♫ _

_ A heart of steel starts to grow♫ _

I swallowed thickly, attempting to force myself to relax, even if it's futile. I quietly began to hum the tune as I remember it.

_ When you’ve been fighting for it all your life♫ _

_ You’ve been struggling to make things right♫ _

_ It’s how a superhero learns to fly♫ _

My shoulders relaxed but didn’t stop shaking.

_ Everyday, every hour turn the pain into power♫ _

I have no idea how much time I spent humming the same verse over and over, but my fingers were wrinkling before I wasn’t on the cusp of a panic attack.

I sucked in a deep breath and ducked underneath the water. Going to the bottom, I used some of the roots to anchor myself and swift but carefully I dragged my hand along the bottom; searching for my knife.

I could feel my focus slipping back to panic the longer I held my breath and as soon as I grabbed something that didn’t feel natural, I resurfaced.

I chaotically emerged from the water, gasping and grabbing onto another root to raise myself out as much as possible.

Wiping my eyes with my dripping hand, I splashed the object in the water, removing enough of the mud to recognize it.

I felt calmer already, just having the familiar blade in my hand feels like I can think clearly again.

I swished it off completely in the settling water until it was clean(enough) before securing it in my thigh sheath. Where it belongs.

Okay. I’ve got this. It’s gonna be alright. I’m safe enough for now. I just, just need to get out of here.

I blew a slow breath from my mouth, clenching my fists that by no means still have a tremor. The— the water’s just cold.

One more breath, then I’m gonna look up. In...and out.

Tilting my head skyward, I dug up the courage to open my eyes and forced my breath through my nose, running through my _ very _limited options.

It’s hard to ignore the fact my hands are numb and I feel like I’m _ sinking _ the longer I stare up _ . _

I blew the water off my lips, pushing a clump of wet stringy hair off my chin.

Larger roots cover most of the wall near the top. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s about a 10 foot climb to the top. Not including the 5 & a ½ or so feet of water here at the bottom.

I reached up, making a grab for the roots above me. Slick slime coating the thin bark made it slide right off the root everywhere I grabbed.

Getting a solid grip that lasted more than a few seconds proved near impossible after the fifteenth try but two more and I finally got a decent enough hold to pull myself almost all the way out of the water; if you could even call it that anymore.

I brought my foot up, my knee almost touching my chest again, and dug the toe of my boot into the dirt along the wall, reaching for the next root. The dirt shifted a bit but didn’t give way while I took a bracing breath and hoisted myself up to repeat it.

I climbed maybe 3 feet before my foothold crumbled and the slick root I was holding onto, betrayed me.

I plunged back into the water, barely getting under the surface before my feet hit the bottom and stuck.

Panic struck through me and I launched myself towards the surface without a thought; nearly pulling off one of my shoes but thankfully I didn’t lose ‘em in the glue-like mud.

As if my circumstances aren’t unfavorable enough as is. If I have to fish for my shoes, I don’t think I could stave off another attack.

Roughly pushing my drenched tangled hair out of my face, I coughed some water out of my throat and grabbed another root with my frozen shaking fingers, starting over.

* * *

**Daryl's POV**

I looked at the sky for the third time in ten minutes. Eve should’a been ‘ere by now— Hell, she shoulda been waitin’ for me.

She could’a found somethin’.

If she found somethin’, she still woulda been ‘ere before me.

My gut twisted as I scanned the trees again, looking for a dark figure and amber eyes but once again there was an unsettling lack of just that.

Eve can take of ‘erself...usually. For someone so quiet she attracts an awful lot a trouble.

I never expected ‘er to fall out of a damn tree.

The knot in my gut tightened second by second until I’d worn a line through the leaves on the ground and into the mud; thinking about those bruises.

She was havin’ trouble breathin’ the whole way back to the highway. She couldn’t even get in the damn car yesterday.

I looked around again, before looking up to check the sky but I found myself fixated on the tree above me.

That sound when she hit the ground...

My grip tightened on my crossbow as I stared up through the trees.

I finally checked my crossbow and started off; giving into the feeling I’ve had since I showed up and she wasn’t here.

* * *

**Eve's POV**

I dug my foot into the dirt wall once again but it broke a massive chunk off and I barely managed to keep my grip.

My hands and feet are caked in layers of mud. The water at the bottom has turned to thick sludge.

I can’t afford to fall for a 6th time. Each time I do, it gets harder and harder to pull myself out. The mud’s adding weight to my mass, making it harder to move, and even harder to hold onto the already slick mass of roots.

The one thing it’s been good for, is keeping the bugs from biting me. I’m just glad there aren’t any snakes in this pit.

Unfortunately, my luck could be a whole lot worse but what little I’ve had so far seems to be fading with the light.

It’s gonna be dark soon and there’s no chance I’ll be able to climb out of here then.

I’m not optimistic that I could survive a night down here either. And that’s assuming it doesn’t start raining, or walkers decide to drop in uninvited, or I don’t get hypothermia which I think I might already be headed for.

If I do make it through the night, there’s almost a guarantee this cut on my forehead will get infected if it isn’t already. I could get sick, I could drown if I fall asleep, I could starve to death down here— but more likely I’ll die of thirst. Oh the irony in that.

Latching my leg around a thick branch, I stopped to rest for a second, looking up to see how far I am from rim.

7 or 8 feet by the looks of it.

I pulled my gun out now that I was high enough and threw it up and out. It’s useless to me right now. It’s so full of mud I doubt the hammer would even cock— and even if it did I wouldn’t risk firing it at this point.

I’ve never made it this high before I might actually get out of here this time.

I grabbed one of the largest roots near the top but my victory was short lived. A slick, followed by a 7 foot drop and a ‘shplunk’ put me right back at square muddy one.

My hands shot out of the “water” grabbing onto the roots for dear life. As soon as I broke the surface, I coughed up mud for a solid minute, gasping in between fits. Tremors wracked my body from cold, exhaustion, and the ever-looming possibility of a panic attack at any moment.

I did black out for a bit around the 3rd try but seeing as I’m still alive, and it’s still light out, it couldn’t have been that long, and it clearly wasn’t a full blown attack.

I pushed my filthy and tangled long hair out of my equally as grimy face for about the hundredth time. The usual soft quality of the strands has long been replaced with the feeling of thousands of tiny roots, like the ones from the walls. Hundreds of tiny threads winding themselves together to create nets over my skin and hinder me as much as possible.

I don’t know what the Hell happened to my hair tie but it’s the least of my worries right now.

I tried to scrape the mud off my hands on the bark but it had nowhere near the effect I hoped.

My hands have been shaking non-stop for the last ten minutes. Before, I could feel how cold they were but for the last half hour I haven’t been able to feel much of anything in my fingers, temperature wise.

I took a minute to breathe before I climbed again. The first 5 or so feet have gotten easy, I’ve done it enough times to clear a decent path to follow but after that, it gets rocky again -on occasion- literally.

The suffocating must of dirt, dust, and different kinds of rot mixing my climb dislodged is almost unbearable and on three separate occasions, it forced me to stop and breathe through the mud-caked fabric of my shirt in hopes of getting some degree of fresh air into my burning lungs and stinging throat.

I can’t even count how many times I’ve weighed the risk of drinking the water in here, but the last straw always comes back to the fact it’s practically walker soup and I’ve almost puked twice thanks to it.

The higher I get, the more careful I am about where I grab, and where I place my feet.

I got barely two feet from the top when a snap made me freeze. For a moment I thought another root had broken and expected the falling sensation I am _ way _ too used to, but on some level I already knew that sound _ wasn’t me _; It came from above.

Please just be a squirrel. For all of deities creations, _ please _be a squirrel.

Panic set in and a cold sweat ran down the back of my neck, making me shiver.

That shiver flipped the switch in my brain from ‘_ Freeze _ ’ to ‘ _ Move your ass _’.

I reached for my next hold and tugged to make sure it would hold(only needed to learn that lesson twice) before I raised my knee to my shoulder and found my next sturdy foothold. If I fall now, there’s no chance in Hell it won’t be heard above by whatever is up there.

I’m close enough to the top now I can almost see out.

I reached for a root just below the rim and looked down to locate my next foothold.

I reeled as something wrapped around my wrist, nearly screaming. My head snapped up, my hand already fumbling for my knife and half a thought to pull it down with me, and I almost lost hold of the roots before I froze.


	33. Chapter 33

**Daryl’s POV**

Alarmed amber eyes stared up at me for a solid two seconds before Eve’s shoulders dropped, visibly relaxing.

A heavy sigh escaped mud-caked lips as she glanced down, before her eyes came back up to meet mine, a relieved smile replacing the panic-stricken expression from before.

I grabbed her slick muddy arm with both hands and she gripped back as best she could, and pulled her up enough she could almost get out.

It ain’t enough, the mud covering every inch of her is too slick, every time she grabs something her hand just slides. My own grip is slipping every time I grab her.

My hold on Eve’s forearm slid to her wrist and her foot slipped, slamming her chest against the root my foot was braced against.

Eve coughed hoarsely at the impact and her arm started slipping out of my grip as she started sliding down.

Her grip tightened on my arm but it wasn’t helping much she was still sliding.

It was awkward to grab the back of her belt and under her arm but it was the only leverage I could get that didn’t slip through my fingers(literally).

Leaning back, I finally pulled her over the edge far enough she got her knee up and we both fell back onto the dry ground. Eve tried to get off my arm but her hand slid and her jaw hit my forearm with a painful ‘ _ clack _ ’ before she managed it.

I flinched at the sound, knowing I’ll have a bruise there tomorrow but as soon as she got up, she rolled onto her back and took the fastest deep breaths I’ve ever seen.

“Thought I said I wouldn’t come save ur ass” I panted, glancing over the raised root now covered in mud, into the sinkhole.

How long she been down there? That’s gotta be at least 20 feet deep.

I glanced around before resting my arms over my knees. What the Hell is in this mud? It’s like slime.

I tried to wipe some of it off on my jeans but it didn’t do much, ‘cept turn my knee brown.

I watched ‘er reach up and push the muddy mass of dark hair out of her face, pulling some of it away from her mouth.

The drying grey mud covers almost every inch of ‘er. It’s even stuck in clumps on her eyelashes.

I watched her breaths slow and her face twist in disgust when she licked her lips and she coughed again.

“Thanks”

I stared at her for a second before nodding. “Yer welcome”

I still ain’t used to hearing ‘er speak. Startin’ to wonder if I’ll ever be.

She sat up and spit mud from her mouth into the hole, going to wipe her mouth on her sleeve but stopped when her eyes fixed on the two inches of sludge caked on it.

I watched her lean her arms on ‘er knees, breathing in through ‘er nose and out ‘er mouth.

Her hands are shaking, and I can’t see much of ‘er skin underneath the mud, but I know she ain’t  _ that _ pale.

Only time I’ve ever seen ‘er hands shake like this was at the CDC, when we were locked in and she grabbed my shirt.

Eve ain’t afraid a much —tries to hide it when she is— but everybody’s gotta be afraid a somethin’.

She’s claustrophobic, figured that out at the CDC, but I didn’t think it was this bad.

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

I leaned my no doubt muddy forehead against Daryl’s shoulder. Half of it’s to say thank you(even though I already did) but honestly, it’s more for me than him.

I’ve hit my limit, I’m too exhausted to stave off another panic attack by myself.

Daryl didn’t stiffen like I expected, like he usually does when someone touches him— or so much as stands too close to him, but I don’t have the mental energy to read into it.

Focusing on his already normal breathing is helping me calm down tremendously.

I don’t know how I thought of it in this state but I tried to match my breathing to his and was almost startled at how easily it helped calm the frenzy in my head.

Usually it takes me 5— 10 minutes to normalize but somehow I doubt it’s even been two.

I finally lifted my head from his shoulder and a few seconds of silence passed before he grabbed my muddy gun from just behind us and stood up, offering me a hand.

“It’s gon be dark soon.”

I nodded and accepted his hand, getting to my feet. The mud’s starting to dry and become crusted itchy dirt.

It could be exhaustion, but I’m 90% sure this mud’s added an extra 10 lbs.

Daryl gave me a once over and I raised an eyebrow, wanting to know what’s provoked such an ‘in-thought’ look. I doubt it has anything to do with my striking good looks at the moment. I pulled a clump of mud plastered hair off my neck and tossed it over my shoulder with a ‘smack’ on my back. I’m not even gonna think about why it made that sound.

“Let’s go back to the creek first. Wash up a lil’ before we head back.” he started walking, scooping up his crossbow after wiping his muddy hand on his jeans.

It’s not that bad is it? I glanced down at myself, only just realizing I look like a walking mud monster. I can only imagine what this looks like from his perspective.

The stuff of nightmares, probably.

I stopped smelling it a while ago but I don’t imagine I smell like roses either.

I moved to follow him, glancing around for my muddy gun before I spotted it in his other hand.

Catching up, the burn in my chest lept to the foreground and the aching in— well,  _ everywhere _ started up again.

This is the second time in what? two days? This has happened. It’s starting to become a habit. A habit I need to get rid of as soon as possible.

Mmm, my head's splitting now. I’m so tired I could probably sleep just about anywhere if I stop moving for long enough.

* * *

I laid back in the water, completely immersing myself and ran my fingers through my tangled hair; shaking loose all the mud and debris I could.

The creek isn’t exactly fresh clean water but it’s better than what I was swimmin’ in earlier, by far.

Besides, I was already drenched and covered in mud. I’d say this is a step up, but I’d kill an entire herd of walkers for a hot bath; luckily I don’t have to.

I just have to ask when we get back to the farm and I don’t think it’ll take much convincing; considering I can now smell myself again and may or may have not have felt the need to puke once or twice after the first two or three dunks.

* * *

**Daryl’s POV**

I stood on the edge of the bank, leaning against a tree, keeping watch while Eve sheds most of her new layers.

It only took me a minute or two to wash the stuff from my arms and splash some water on the drying spots on my clothes. That bruise on my arm is already starting to form.

I glanced at the water, seeing if she’d come back up yet but she hasn’t.

I watched for a solid minute, and she still hasn’t come back up.

Unconsciously, I took half a step closer but right as I did, she came up with a splash like a swamp monster; hair tangled over her face like somethin’ out of a horror movie.

I couldn’t stop the snort that slipped but moved my attention back to the woods.

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

Haphazardly moving my mop of hair so I could see, I glanced over.

I could’ve sworn I heard something like a laugh but that’s—...unlikely.

My jaw went slack, leaving my mouth open to catch flies.

That small smile on Daryl’s face had me so dazed I didn’t notice I’d stopped breathing. Until my chest constricted, forcing me to inhale and nearly choking myself on the water that had dripped down my lip into my open mouth.

I choked for almost a minute before I could finally breathe normally again. I directed my gaze up at Daryl as I stood up.

He offered me a hand to get out of the bank but he looks so entertained I almost want to punch him. If he wasn’t the reason I got out of that hole, I just might have.

Accepting his hand, Daryl pulled me out of the creek and I messily tied my hair back away from my face. It’s tangled beyond recognition but for now, this’ll have to work. It’d be worse to leave it in a giant rat’s nest to coat my back and stick to my shoulders.

I rung my jacket out, tying it around my waist as we started walking.

One less thing clinging to my skin and it’s unbelievable how much better I feel.

Still tired but a little more awake with how cold it is now. Soaked + sun going down + exhausted = I need a bath, a comfy blanket or heater of some type, and a nap asap.

As we walked, I noticed something white in Daryl’s shirt pocket. At first I thought it was a piece of paper but it’s sort of round.

I poked Daryl’s shoulder and he looked at me, “What?”

I nodded to his pocket and he looked down to the little delicate white object poking out.

“Cherokee Rose”

I nodded, being aware of the Native American story behind the flower but I’m not sure if he is.

He doesn’t look like the type to know that sort of thing but then again, neither do I.

He also doesn’t look like the type to pick a flower. Why did he pick it?

In my experience there are only a few reasons why people pick flowers— people who don’t have an affinity for them— and well...let’s just say I really hope it isn’t because he’s lost hope.


	34. Chapter 34

We finally returned to the farm, just as the sun touched the horizon and began dying the skyline a warm hue.

The 4th random shiver in a half hour, ran up my spine and I peeled my shirt away my skin, trying to ease some of the cold.

I snapped the wet fabric against my skin, jabbing my thumb towards the house.

Daryl nodded, starting towards the RV but short stopped and pointed at his forehead, “You should have the old man take a look at that.”

I touched my temple and hissed, finding blood on my fingertips. I almost forgot about this. It can’t be that bad if I haven’t felt the blood before now.

My stomach sank and regrettably something of a whine came out of my throat. I hope it doesn’t need stitches.

I gave a thumbs up, and we parted ways. My step more apprehensive than before as I headed for the house.

I got many a curious look on my way but once I was inside, the look on Lori’s face— _ priceless. _

If I didn’t know she was a mother, that look right there would be the biggest dead give away short of walkers handing out limbs, free of charge.

“Oh my— What on Earth happened out there?” Lori rushed towards me from her place against the kitchen counter.

The other two women turned to find the walking flood that is myself at the kitchen doorway, while Lori worked to pull a stick out of my hair. At least I’m not a mudslide anymore. I’m fairly certain I would have been mistaken for a walker the moment I walked in.

I did expect this sort of reaction to some extent but a small part of me expected them to laugh or at least smile like Daryl had at the creek.

Hell, now that my life is no longer in danger and I can’t feel my toes or fingertips, I could laugh about it.

I felt the broadening of a smile on my face, despite not being able to tell where my numb lips are, exactly.

I must’ve completely missed the question young Beth asked because the next thing I knew they’re all staring at me.

Lori glanced at her boots like she— everyone around here tends to do before meeting my gaze. Oh no, I sense something unpleasant coming.

“Did you find anything?”

Abracadabra; just like that my pleasant mood is gone, replaced with a hollowing ache in my already pain riddled chest.

Even if I was one for words, I wouldn’t have any right now. A shake of my head was all I could manage.

“Eve?”

My eyes snapped up to meet Maggie’s and after a few seconds her face filled with sympathy; Not necessarily for me.

“Do you have any spare clothes?”

I nodded and moved to go back out to get my backpack but Lori stopped me.

“I’ll get ‘em. You go get cleaned up.” She pulled another root off my jacket and was gone before I could protest and Maggie motioned at me.

“Come on, bathroom’s this way.”

I didn’t argue. Despite not being overly fond of the idea of someone else handling my stuff. Even if it’s only my backpack.

Exhaustion does strange things to my head but add what feels like hundreds of small aches and pains all over every inch of me, and I might as well be a robot.

* * *

Clouded water dripped from my hands while I painstakingly pulled small roots and bits of twigs out of my spidery hair. The water went cold almost half an hour ago but I still haven’t been able to get even 2/3rds of these little bits out.

I know It’s unlikely I’ll get them all and I don’t plan to, I just wanna get enough I don’t feel them when I go to sleep tonight and believe me, as soon as my head touches that pillow I’m gonna sleep like a dead man.

I finally gave up, considering cutting my hair at this point, it’s getting pretty long for my taste, and finished washing my hair out.

It’s long but it’s always been easy enough to manage; for that I’m grateful, especially now. It can be difficult when it wants to be but for the most part I don’t see any reason to cut it just yet.

If it gets in the way it’ll be a problem but I usually keep it tied back anyway. I’d rather not have to get in trouble before I decide to cut it though.

I caught sight of my reflection in the tub water. My head is still bleeding.

What am I doing?

Thinking about my hair, sitting in a bathtub, when Sophia’s out there, alone in the woods like some horror movie from Hell.

It’s bad enough I didn’t find anything today but not only was I sloppy— I nearly got myself killed.

How much ground could I have covered if I had just paid attention?

If I hadn’t been stupid and reckless— If I hadn’t gotten my hopeless ass stuck, maybe I could have found her. Maybe Daryl would have found her if he hadn’t needed to come _ fish _me out.

If we’d met up as planned, we could have looked more. It wasn’t even dark by the time we got back to the farm, we had plenty of time. Not to mention it took me almost 20 minutes to get most of the mud off in the creek.

It’s dangerous in the dark but with the two of us we’d have been fine. We can take care of ourselv—...

I ground my knuckles into my eyes and got out of the bath.

Says the woman who fell in a hole, looking for a lost child.

I tossed my muddy clothes into the water. It’s already soapy, and it’s only gonna get more grimy cleaning them. I don’t wanna waste any water. Or cause any more damage than I already have today.

I gave my clothes a quick, angry scrub and it got the job done well enough I won’t complain.

I dried off while they soaked and found my backpack leaning next to the door.

I stared at that bag for lord knows how long. My only thought being, _ I didn’t hear the door open... _

I swiped it off the floor and tore through it until I all but ripped my spare clothes out. Aka my substitutes for Pajamas.

I pulled the dark blue sweatpants on almost violently but when I went to do the same with the racer-back tank, I stopped.

My fingers dragged over the letters ‘** _Do_ ** _ n’t Qu _ ** _it_ **’.

A deep sigh compressed my lungs as I let my forehead touch the counter where the shirt was residing.

Sometimes my own optimism makes it hard to believe I’m a realist.

Why is the person easiest to let down and you’re least capable of resisting, yourself?

I pulled on the shirt without the excess fury and stared at the backward writing in the mirror before ringing out my day clothes and tossing my backpack over my shoulder.

Gathering up my things and draining the bath, I turned off the light. Leaving the small room in darkness, I made my way outside.

I was headed for the RV to retrieve what I had to leave with Dale yesterday and did a double take when I got to the edge of camp, seeing my tent already set up.

I looked around as if I’d get some sort of explanation but no such thing happened.

Don’t ask me why I hesitated when I opened it. I don’t know why I’m so paranoid, it’s not as if a walker would stumble into camp, right past live people, set up my tent for me, and then just go back to wandering around looking for something to rip apart.

If that were true though, I would be less inclined to killing them on sight.

I tossed my stuff inside and draped my damp shirt and jeans on top of the tent to let them dry overnight.

A chill struck me suddenly and I ran my hand over my arm, feeling the goosebumps. The water wasn’t that cold was it? The water in the hole was, but I shouldn’t be this cold after a hot bath and a change of clothes.

It’s not even that cold out tonight.

I moved towards the most significant heat source, which was thankfully the fire, and sat in one of the camp chairs to let myself warm up.

Ten minutes later, Glenn and Andrea turned me into a burrito after seeing my shivering(_ I tried to hide that so well _) and everyone gathered around for the collective meal that has somehow become part of our group’s routine of its own accord.

Thankfully I didn’t have any trouble eating after Lori handed me a plate of food. At least something has gone alright today.

Today wasn’t a _ complete _ failure though; Turns out, Glenn was the one who set up my tent for me while I was gone today. I probably could have guessed that if my brain were working, my ribs would stop kicking, and I didn’t spend the afternoon in a hole staving off panic attacks like it was my full-time job.

I’ve got this profound sense we’re all on some sort of camping trip, and the world isn’t any different than it was before. It’s not as unsettling as I would’ve imagined.

“Geez slow down, Joey Chestnut.” Glenn chuckled next to me.

I looked at him, chewing a mixed mouthful of everything on— that _ was _ on my plate.

I pointed off into the trees, he turned, and I snatched something off his plate, shoving it in my mouth before he turned back.

A snort from Daryl came from my right and laughs broke out around me as Glenn turned back with a confused look.

“What?” He looked around at everyone as I swallowed.

“You might wanna think about defending your plate.” T-Dog chuckled.

While Glenn wasn’t looking, I snuck something else off his plate and popped it in my mouth before he looked down.

“Why—...Wait, where did...” he looked around until his eyes settled on me.

I tried my damnedest not to smile, I really did, but I was still chewing and the indignant sound he made almost made me spit-take as I tried to wash it down with my water bottle.

“You little—” Glenn stared at me with his mouth ajar but he’s smiling, so he can’t be too mad.

I shrugged. Sorry, I was hungry.

“Just so ya know, you come anywhere near my plate, you’ll lose yer fingers.” Daryl chimed in as I glanced at him.

The Hell you talkin’ about, Dixon? There’s nothing _ on _ your plate anymore. Smart man and duly noted, but still you have _ no _room to talk. You don’t exactly have the appetite of a baby bird either.


	35. Chapter 35

I finished applying the band-aid Dale gave me at dinner to my temple. I don’t know if it’s entirely in place, because what do you know I can’t see my own head without some sort of reflection, but it feels like it’s in place so I’m gonna call it my day’s one and only win.

I flopped back on my sleeping bag, flinching when the bruises touched down and stared at the fabric roof.

I’m tired, I know I am, but my mind is too awake to sleep. And my back hurts.

I rolled onto my side, taking the pressure off one bruise field and seemingly onto another. It’s gonna be a long night.

I shifted around for what felt like forever before giving in to the position that hurt the least and grabbed the small flashlight out of my backpack pocket.

Without my clothes clogging up space in my bag, it was easy to find a copy of one of my favorite books Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and flip to a random page.

Hitchhiker’s Guide is one of the few books where random starting is actually fun. I’ve read it almost 30 times so I don’t get lost anymore, but it’s not like you really know what’s going on anyway.

* * *

I let my eyelids drift shut, to let them eyes rest for a moment but when I opened them again, it was bright.

Shuffling, clinking, and rustling came from outside my tent while people moved about but I don’t wanna get up so I closed my eyes again.

The warm sunlight streaming into my tent acting as the perfect space heater. The warm glowing feeling only sunlight is capable of providing.

Not too hot, not cold; Goldilocks would be proud.

I don’t know how my book managed to stay on my chest all night, but my legs tangled in the blanket and pulled my pants in all sorts of uncomfortable.

I could have gone back to sleep after some minor adjustments, except there’s one problem. I don’t have a blanket.

I looked down, and nope, that is not my sleeping bag like I thought it may have been but I recognize it. It’s Dale’s, and it was most definitely not here last night when I went to sleep.

Turning over, my book fell from my chest as I reached for my stuff; checking to see if it’s all still here. My gear still is, untouched, and as far as I can tell nothing’s missing.

What I can’t figure out is why someone would come into my tent and put a blanket on me. It was probably Dale, seeing as how this is one of his blankets.

What concerns me more is that I didn’t wake up when someone opened my tent—...did I...close it last night?

I don’t remember if I did. Did I turn off the flashlight?

I reached for the light and clicked it on. Well the batteries isn’t dead so I must have. Or someone else did.

A sizzle from outside drew my gaze to the door flap, partially closed, and the smell of food wafted through.

All thoughts about who was in my tent last night dispelled at the smell of eggs and I groggily tossed aside my things and stretched my back out; twisting in ways that feel amazing but probably look like I broke my spine.

Several joints and bones popped and muscles stretched in bliss until I was satisfied.

I rolled onto my stomach, pushing up onto my knees and basked in the warmth before rolling up my sleeping bag and getting it out of the way.

My tent’s not big, it ain’t small but small enough that the bag feels in the way if I don’t roll it up. Plus I’d like to be able to just grab it and go, should I need to.

I can live without a tent, but a sleeping bag is an enormous help; especially with winter on the horizon.

With the cozy blanket in hand, I pulled on my boots and stepped out of my tent into the bright rays, soaking up that vitamin D.

It’s not as cold as I expected it to be. Usually sunlight itself feels colder in the morning, but it’s actually quite nice today. I wonder what time it is. Does Dale still wind his watch?

I headed straight for the smell of food, dragging my feet a bit. It’s not often I get to be lazy but I suspect it has something to do with the -frankly astonishing- amount of injuries I’ve sustained over the last few days.

My body’s working overtime on trying to heal. Not to mention the amount of energy I’ve expended successively. It’s like starting a new, tougher, workout routine.

Speaking of working out, I might wanna think about implementing something into my everyday schedule. Something for runners is probably a good idea, considering how much of that we do nowadays.

It’s not likely it’ll hurt me to run faster, or be stronger at this point.

“Mornin’. Did you sleep well?” Carol pulled my attention, hanging clothes on a clothesline of two strings strung between a pair of trees.

A content sleep-laced smile made its way across my lips, just as my stomach growled.

“There’s some breakfast over there.” Carol smiled, looking like she could almost laugh. I can almost hear her comparing me to a teenager but the smile fell as she finished clipping a baseball t-shirt(no doubt Glenn’s) to the line.

Her eyes downcast and I stepped forward, gripping her shoulder. She didn’t look up, but I don’t blame her. She doesn’t have to for the tears pricking the corners of her eyes to be visible from this close.

I panicked, fumbling for a moment before hugging her(a bit awkwardly to be honest).

I’m not good with crying. I really only have one card to play.

I’m never sure about hugs either though. I don’t know what’s too long or too brief, and I find myself counting whenever I do. I count to 20, sometimes faster than normal but I’ve never had a complaint so I must be doing something right. Right?

Granted, I’ve never had many people to hug before. And without fail, I always feel awkward about it.

Being a good 3-4 inches taller than Carol, it’s almost natural to rest my chin on her head but at the same time it’s unavoidable.

Close physical contact makes me hyper aware for some reason, and as a result, I don’t often miss much. Like when she sniffles, or breathes, and how she relaxed now that I’ve successfully prevented her from crying. I hope.

It could be my imagination though. I don’t have a lot of experience in the ‘social’ field.

I pulled away and she looks a lot more ‘okay’ than before so I’m gonna go with, mission successful.

I turned to the ruffling of the tent behind me and watched Lori pull on her shoes, say a quick morning to T as he passed by.

I gave her a quick morning smile as she came over to us. I held up the blanket with a questioning look; hoping that maybe one of them know who the blanket 

Lori shrugged, shaking her head and Carol mirrored her.

“Maybe it was Dale. I think that’s his blanket and last night he said you’d get cold sleepin’ like you were, without a blanket.” Lori inferred.

“Which reminds me, you shouldn’t leave your tent open if you’re gonna sleep.” she gave me a teasing shoulder nudge and the two cracked smiles.

Oh yes, definitely mothers. I smiled and rolled my eyes in good fun.

With a grateful nod, I went on a hunt for the owner of the magical ‘On Golden Pond’ but he wasn’t in said vehicle when I knocked and peeked in the side door; nor was he on top, so I left it on the passenger seat.

I went back to my tent, looking for my day clothes but I stopped halfway back, seeing them on the clothesline.

I grabbed them to see if they were still damp, and smelled my shirt to make sure they don’t stink. Finding nothing, I took them down, briefly wondering how I’d missed them in the first place and went back to my tent to change, and this time I’ll be damn sure to close that flap.

A few moments later, I was out of my tent clothed and geared up to go back out today.

I was checking the sharpness of my blades, in case they’ve dulled, when the sensation of being watched crept up on me.

I looked up and sure enough, Andrea and T-Dog are staring at me, mouths catching flies.

“You _ just _ went in there, how can you be ready?” Andrea looked me over, incredulously.

I gave a wink and a wicked smile in place of a response as Rick and Shane came past us.

“Morning guys, let’s get going”

I nodded, falling into step just behind Rick to Carol’s Cherokee and stood between Daryl and T at the hood, around the map.


	36. Chapter 36

“Alright. Everyone’s getting new search grids today. If she made it as far as the farmhouse Daryl found, she might’ve gone further East than we’ve been so far.” Rick started.

“I’d like to help” one of Hershel’s people came up next to Rick. I don’t know his name, but he _ sounds _like a teenager.

“I know the area pretty well and stuff.” He can’t be older than Glenn, if he’s even that old. If he is, he has a Hell of a baby face.

“Hershel’s okay with this?” Rick glanced at us, uncertainly.

“Yeah, yeah. He said I should ask you” _ B _ \- _ S _

I smiled tightly, preventing a laugh from bubbling up my throat. Oh he is _ definitely _ a teenager. You are not a great liar, kid.

Only a teenager would make that sound like he’s asking if he can go to a party.

“Alright then. Thanks” Rick turned back to the map.

Wait, really? Did you seriously just buy that?

Damn, Officer, I didn’t think you were really that trusting.

“Nothing about what Daryl found screams Sophia to me. Anyone could’ve been holed up in that farmhouse.” Always gotta be the party pooper Shane, don’t you? Would it kill you to be positive for once?

“Anyone includes her right?” Andrea retorted. Oooo

“Whoever slept in that cupboard was no bigger than yay-high” Daryl indicated with his hand before returning to the buttons on his shirt.

“It’s a good lead” Andrea acknowledged

“Maybe we’ll pick up her trail again” Rick leaned against the car on his palms.

“No maybe about it. I’ma borrow a horse, head up to this ridge right here. Get a bird’s-eye view of the whole grid. If she’s up there, I’ll spot her.” Daryl pointed to the ridge on the map.

“Good idea. Maybe you’ll see your Chupacabra up there too.” T-Dog mocked as Dale set the bag of guns on the hood.

Oh lord, are we really starting with this again? You’re really beatin’ the dead horse on this one. I thought this joke lost its appeal after the second time, now it’s just annoying.

“Chupacabra?” Rick looked at him with a confused ‘really’ look.

“You never heard this? Our first night in camp, Daryl tells us that the whole thing reminds him of a time he went squirrel hunting and he saw a Chupacabra.” Dale handed a rifle over the hood and the kid next to Rick snorted.

“What’re you braying at, Jackass?” Daryl scowled across the hood at the teenager.

“So you believe in a blood sucking dog?” Rick, if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you’re being condescending.

“You believe dead people walking around?” Hah, touche. I think Daryl wins this round.

The kid reached for the gun that was passed over the hood but Rick grabbed it first, “Hey hey. Ever fire one before?”

“Well if I’m going out, I want one.”

Daryl scoffed, “Yeah, and people in Hell want slurpees.”

I most certainly did not snort, while he stalked off. That would be immature...

“Why don’t you come train tomorrow?” Shane shifted his cap, “If you’re serious I’m a certified instructor.”

“For now he can come with us.” Andrea took her gun off the hood and started off, motioning at the boy.

“He’s yours to babysit then.” Shane called after them.

Phew, for a minute there I thought I was gonna get stuck with him since me and Daryl are splitting up for today.

Rick finally looked to me and I pointed to where I’m going to search today; tracing the area on the slightly gritty map.

Rick nodded as he followed my finger, (I assume)mentally noting my route.

I’m going pretty far from everyone else, the farthest out any of us have gone, in case Sophia’s gone further than we’ve predicted.

Rick nodded, confirming where I would be searching and I wasted no time in going off on my own trek.

I headed for the woods without delay, and reached the treeline just a few minutes. Before I could enter the forest though, drumming thumps drew my attention behind me.

I turned and flashed an attentive smile at the sight of Daryl on one of the Greene’s chestnut horses, stopping next to me.

“Ey, be careful today. I mean it. I ain’t gonna be there to come look for ya when ya don’t show this time.”

I smiled but believe me, this time around I’m taking the warning seriously. I don’t want a repeat of yesterday anymore than he does. My clothes still smell like marsh water and although it hasn’t kicked in quite yet, my muscles are gonna make me pay for this later; all of it.

I’m not the only one who needs to be careful out there, you know. I pointed at him purposefully, with raised eyebrows.

He rolled his eyes with a scoff. “I ain’t the one who almost died in a hole.”

My mouth dropped open in (somewhat)mock offense. Really? You have to put it like that? —He’s not wrong, but _ still _.

Ohoho, it’s on now, Dixon. I will get you back for that comment. One day. When you least expect it.

I narrowed my eyes at him; regrettably the effect may have been diminished due to the smile that’s trying to force its way out. He gave a single nod.

I gave in and smiled, waving as we went our separate ways into the forest; Him to the right, me to the left.

* * *

Good lord, it’s hot today. I’m sweatin’ like a beast.

I smacked my neck for the 3rd time making the small cut my fingernail gave me the previous time, sting.

I gotta cut my nails, but these mosquitoes are gonna eat me alive before any walker.

The sun’s high and bright, and the day is starting to feel twice as long as yesterday.

It would’ve seemed tranquil— even safe, if I wasn’t out here looking for a lost child in a world full of cannibalistic corpses. And you know...these little shits. I flicked a dead insect off my finger and wiped it on a tree as I walked past it.

I stopped to take a breather, waving my hand near my head in an attempt to rid myself of yet another insect.

I didn’t know I wasn’t a fan of bugs until now. Learn somethin’ new everyday. Glad I wore my jacket today, though or I’d have bites all over my arms by now.

I stared out at the wall of green and grey-ish brown, yellow light bouncing off leaves to shine down through the canopy above.

I should be about halfway through my grid if I’m as far as I think.

I took the compass out of my pocket, tapping the cover to make sure it still works.

I don’t know why it wouldn’t. I haven’t used it before now and it’s not like I’ve done anything that could break it. Yet.

It’s just...somewhat reassuring to know that at least something’s working for me these days.

I don’t know what to do anymore.

Walking through the woods doesn’t feel like enough. It never did.

I swallowed, kneading my lip between my teeth. I kicked a rock as I started walking again, shoving the compass back in my pocket.

I smacked my neck again— for the love of mashed potatoes— that is the _ last _straw.

I ripped out my hair tie, pulling my own hair in the process and secured the elastic around my wrist, while I shook it out to fall around my shoulders and cover my damn neck.

Stupid freakin’ _ winged syringes _.

The breeze picked up and brought my newly loose hair over my shoulder, in front of me.

I jerked as something swayed in front of my face, nearly slicing a lock of my hair off before I could stop. Several seconds passed in slow realization of the “threat” being a band aid tangled in the ends of my hair.

Sheathing a blade, I touched my forehead, feeling a gross almost sticky scab instead of a band aid.

Beautiful.

I scratched my neck before going to untangle it as I continued my mirthless trudge through the woods.

It’s starting to feel like a waste of time...a lost cause. Not just the band aid; all of it.

Searching the woods, walking on eggshells with Hershel, getting this damn band aid out of my hair— 

I swatted my hair away, refocusing on the trees.

I’ve been by myself for too long. I shouldn’t be allowed to think this much. Since when have I become so easily frustrated, and incapable of being on my own?

I’ve always been on my own. Just me in this riptide…

A laugh bubbled up from my belly before I knew it; bitter laughter. The kind that leaves you questioning what the Hell you’re doing here.

Last time I was this frustrated, I broke my car’s windshield and spent the day eating Oreo’s and Ben & Jerry's ‘Phish food’ on the curb, outside a liquor store.

What is wrong with me?


	37. Chapter 37

I pulled the squirrel attached to my bolt from the tree as I passed, securing it with one hand while I guided the horse through the trees.

So far I’ve got a squirrel, and absolutely nothin’ else.

I braced against the back of the saddle while the horse went down a tilt of the ridge before it leveled off.

A shine through the trees on my left pulled my attention.

“Whoa” I gave the reigns a tug, stopping the horse to look down at the bowl-shaped encirclement of a small lake, with a sloped ridge just up the other side. Where the water flowed down the rock, feeding the body below.

My eyes caught on something light and sorta soft pink near a driftwood log at the edge of the water.

I can’t see it well from here, but it definitely ain’t natural.

I dismounted the horse, tying a quick slip knot to the nearest tree so he don’ wander off.

Taking my crossbow from my shoulders, I used my free hand to steady myself with the trees, going down the steep slope.

I reached down and picked up the dripping doll. I’ve seen this thing before.

Stepping back through the shallow water, it sloshed around my ankles as I scanned the treeline.

“Sophia!” my voice echoed through the creek valley.

No response. Not like I expected one or anythin’.

I secured the doll to my belt and climbed back up(easier said than done).

Back on top, I untied the horse, mounted and moved on.

A crow’s caw didn’t distract me from looking for anything, but a flock birds flying out of a bush scared the horse.

“Whoa. Easy, easy.” I pulled on the reigns to keep it from running. It’s nervousness subsided, while I looked around to make sure that was the only reason it spooked.

I found nothing and turned back to the task at hand.

“Come on” I made smooch noises, with a soft tap of my foot to get the horse moving again.

I followed along the ridge, glancing down the slick slope as we reached the crest of the hill.

A sudden hiss and the horse panicked, rearing up.

“Whoa, whoa—”

Just as I saw the snake that spooked it, she reared again and threw me off the side. I barely got my foot out of the stirrup before I hit the ground.

I didn’t stop there, I hit the ground again and my stomach turned as I left the ground again.

Reaching for anything, I tried to stop myself as I tumbled down the hill; past trees and hitting rocks, and rough ground.

The world spun, too fast to get my bearings as I got tossed like a rag doll down the side of the ridge.

I grunted each time I hit the ground; hitting everything from my shoulder, to my ass, to almost my head.

Before I knew it, I was sliding on a hard slick surface on my back, head first.

My legs flailed in front of me, before I hit a crack in the rock and flipped onto my stomach.

My crossbow slid past me as I threw my hands out to try to stop myself.

They burned against the rock as I tried to regain some sort of control and my crossbow splashed in front of me before I flipped again right at the bottom and landed with a smack in the water.

I heard the pierce before I felt it. A vicious sting and aching throb exploded in my side.

I laid at the foot of the slope, struggling to catch my breath. Every intake hurt and exhaled as a grunt.

“Son of a _ bitch _ ! _ Ah _!” I tried to sit up but ended up laying back again.

The pain in my side flared so intense it drowned out everything else but the throb in my head.

I grit my teeth and tried to look down again, turning despite how much it hurt to get a look at my side where the 4 inch tip of a bolt stuck outta my side.

* * *

I laid there for longer than I should have before I could turn myself over and crawl through the water.

It’s easier to move in the 5 foot(at least) deep water but submerging my side hurt more than getting out.

I held my side as I got to the shore, the water went from 3 feet to no feet real quick and I stumbled out of the water, almost face planting into the dirt on the bank.

Every small move pulled at the bolt, or made it move and once I was knelt at the edge of the water, I took my knife, cut the sleeves off my shirt and tied the ends together before tying it around the bolt as close to my skin as I could get it, to stop every little thing from moving it.

I don’t think it hit anything important, or I’d probably be dead already.

I panted, looking up for my way out. First time around climbing outta here was easy but from down here— right now, that ridge looks a lot steeper.

I held my side as it throbbed, looking back at the dirt beneath me. That climb was intimdatin’ the first time round.

I tried to push it out of my head as I struggled to get up. My side pulled but once I was on my feet again I went to what was probably a fallen tree at some point and found a large stick, testing its strength out in the mud, to give me something to lean on before I make this climb.

A branch snapped and I froze, looking at the bushes so fast my head spun for a second.

Cautiously, I leaned and moved my head to try and see through the thick edge of the woods but it’s no use. I can’t see anything.

I took a wary step back, reaching around for my crossbow and my blood ran cold.

Where is—

I looked over and under my shoulder, on some level hoping I was just missing. I just had it—

My eyes darted towards the water.

The rustling continued and I backpedaled, almost tripping over my own two feet as I got back in the water, trying to be as quiet as I could. No splashing.

* * *

**Eve's POV**

I’ve been out here for _ hours _.

I’ve searched almost my entire range, hours on my feet and trudging through the bushes— tracking down a trail that’s not even here— with nothing to show for it.

I scratched my neck and pulled a strand of stuck hair from my lips; wiping the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand.

I haven’t seen any walkers really, aside from one that was already dead. It would have concerned me except it died because there was a _ tree _ on its head. A tree that looked like it had been struck by lightning. It probably happened a long time ago. There was hardly anything left of the body.

So there are two ways to see this. It could be a good thing that I haven’t found anything, she might not have gotten all the way out here, which means we are searching in the right places; _ Or _it could mean her trail is colder than we thought.

Oh I’ve never been religious but, God, I really hope the others are having more luck.

I glanced at the sky, listening to the bird song for a moment.

I hope Daryl’s bird’s eye view has panned out. I can’t really see the ridge from here, not under the canopy, but it was a good idea.

Now if only one of these ideas or searches would produce some results.

* * *

**Daryl's POV**

I searched the water with the stick, pushing it along the bottom until it hit something that didn’t feel natural and I reached my arm under.

My fingers grazed over something smooth and I found a grip, trying to raise it out of the water, I knew it was my crossbow. I know it ain’t that heavy but pulling it out of the sticky mud on the bottom, and up through 4 feet of water, it felt like it weighed 60 pounds.

No wonder Eve was such a mess. I’m surprised she managed to pull ‘erself as far outta that mud as she did; Stuff’s like glue.

I made my way back to where I was before, my crossbow in hand this time.

It’s gonna be dark in a couple hours. I don’t have a horse anymore, means I gotta make it back on foot.

The first step up what might as well be a mountain side, was excruciating.

The ache felt like a white-hot rod’s been shoved through my side.

My chest heaved. Every step, climb, jump, pull up, _ every move _ made me grit my teeth so hard my jaw hurt.

Heh, and I told Eve to be careful.

Never thought I’d be the one who needed savin’ with ‘er clumsy ass around.

I grabbed hold of a thin tree, throwing my stick up onto the next ledge. I took a quick breath, making sure my crossbow strap was secured around my arm and pulled.


	38. Chapter 38

I tested the ground with the stick but it gave way again. I watched the chunk of dirt and rocks fall. Half this ledge is loose dirt. I don’t even know how the tree(twig) I’m holdin’ onto grew ‘ere.

I tested some more ground before lookin’ at the stick in my hand. This thing isn’t gettin’ me anywhere anymore. I tossed it off, lettin’ it roll down the steep drop with the rest of the dirt.

I panted, looking up. I jumped, trying to reach the next tree but came up short and slid back to my less than stable spot on the cliffside.

My side pulled again and I winced, groaning.

“Aw come on. You done half. Stop bein’ such a pussy”

I psyched myself up with a few quick breaths, brought my leg up and tried again.

I swung over and grabbed the tree but my fingers slid off and I ended up right back where I was before. Only the tree I had in my grip loosened and started to pull out of the dirt.

The ledge under me started to crumble and I tried to hold on to the trees; looking for anything I could grab ahold of but the ground disappeared from underneath me, and that falling sensation hit me right before my back hit the ground.

The world spun and I landed on my side over and over before finally hitting the ground on the side my bolt was stuck through.

I rolled off it, gasping and grit my teeth against the endless waves of pain shooting spikes up and down my side, as I laid back on the ground.

My vision blurred and something warm ran down the side of my face before everything went dark.

* * *

My face scrunched as I forced open heavy eyelids.

Blue. Sky’s still blue. I stared at the sky before green caught my attention. Everything’s...blurry, and it smells like mud and wood rot.

I grunted, trying to turn my head, stop it from spinning.

Black?

That a person?

I squinted at the fuzzy blob of a person stopping above me. 

Who’s—…

A face came into focus as the figure crouched next to me. “Why don’cha pull that arrow out, dummy. You could bind your wound better.”

“Merle” I felt a smile pull across my face.

“What’s goin’ on here?” his eyes drew to my side. “You takin’ a siesta or somethin?”

“Shitty day, bro” I groaned, trying to turn my head back to him after it began to lull to one side.

“Mm, would you like me to get ya a pillow? Maybe rub your feet”

“Screw you” I grumbled.

“Huh-uh” he shook his head. “You’re the one screwed, from the looks of it. All them years I spent tryna make a man of you. Dis is what I get.”

My eyelids almost drifted shut but I forced them back open and to focus on Merle.

“Look at ya. Lyin’ in the dirt like a used rubber.”

“You gonna die out here, little brother. And for what?”

“A girl” I swallowed, tryna get the sore lump outta my throat. “They lost a little girl”

“So you gotta thing for little girls now?”

“_ Shut up _”

“Cause I noticed you ain’t out lookin’ for ol’ Merle no more.”

“Tried like Hell to find you, bro” My mouth tastes like dirt.

“Like Hell you did. You split, man. Lit out first chance you got.”

“You lit out. All you had to do was wait. We went back for ya. Rick, Eve, and I.” I grunted. “We did right by ya”

“This the same Rick that cuffed me to the rooftop in the first place? Forced me to cuff off my own hand?”

My vision blurred again and I blinked hard, looking at his hand, trying to refocus.

“This him we’re talkin’ bout here? You his bitch now?”

“_ I ain’t nobody’s bitch _”

“You’re a joke is what ya are. Playin’ errand boy to a bunch a pansy-asses, niggers, and democrats” Merle chuckled.

“Watch your mouth, _ douchebag. _” Another blurry figure came up behind Merle.

“You’re nothing but a freak to them. Redneck trash” Merle’s voice is as condescending as always.

“Careful Merle. You know every time someone lies an angel falls from heaven. They ain’t gonna be too happy when they get down here.” I blinked hard, and the long dark hair came into focus. “Pants don’t catch on fire for no reason.”

“Nahh, they’re laughing at you behind your back.” Merle ignored her. “You know that don’t you?”

Eve crouched next to me, glaring at Merle who finally looked, glaring right back.

Never thought I’d see the day someone out-glares ma brother.

“Well I gotta little news for ya, son. One a these days, they gonna scrape you off their heel like you was dog shit.” Merle pressed

“Now _ that’s _shit.” Eve countered. “Just cause nobody ever liked it when you were around, doesn’t mean we don’t like Daryl.”

“Oh I get it now. It ain’t the little girl yer after now.” Merle laughed. “It’s the _ chatterbox, _ here _ . _ Ain’t it?”

Everything started going fuzzy and my eyes started closing.

“Daryl. You’ve gotta stay awake.” What I think is Eve’s hand, touched my shoulder.

“Hey” Merle smacked me in the chest, bringing my vision back into focus. “They ain’t your kin. Your blood.”

“You don’t need to be blood to care ‘bout someone, Merle. Why d’you think war vets are so close?” Eve glared at him again.

“Hell if you had any damn nuts in that sack of yours you’d go back there and shoot your pal Rick in the face for me. Now you listen to me.” Merle grabbed my jaw, forcing me to look at him.

“Ain’t nobody ever gonna care about you except me, little brother. Ain’t nobody ever will.”

“That’s already not true and you know it.”

Eve stood and looked over her shoulder before running. I watched her run until she was out of sight but something didn’t feel right.

“Come on. Get up...before I have to kick your teeth in.” Merle pat me roughly before he stood up and started kicking my foot, pulling on my boot.

“Let’s go”

I blinked and he was gone.

I looked down at what’s pullin’ on my leg and jerked back. A surge of adrenaline shooting through me.

A walker chewed on my boot and it became very real when it looked at me.

I kicked it in the face with my other foot and spotted my crossbow just feet from me.

I reached for it but the walker was on top of me before I could grab it, clawing at my shirt.

I pushed on it’s chest, going for my knife with the other hand and stabbed it in the shoulder.

I punched it, knocking it off me and pinned it to the ground; trying to pull my knife out of its shoulder.

It grabbed my hair and I rolled, hitting it again until it let go.

I got up, spotting another walker headed this way, and went for the stick next to me(the same one I’d tossed earlier) instead of my bow.

The walker got up and came at me, and I swung at it’s knees.

Something in it’s leg crunched and it dropped to the ground but started to get back up. I lunged at it, using the stick as a bar to pin it before I it above my head and slammed it across the walker’s nose.

I slammed it down again on it’s nose, and again on its forehead, but it still wasn’t dead.

I flipped the stick and stabbed it down right through the center of its face.

I glanced up at the other walker comin’ towards me, and went for my crossbow.

_ Where’s my bolts? _

With a split second idea, I fell backwards and grabbed hold of the one in my side. Don’t think just— 

I pulled it from my side, biting back what tried to rip free of my throat until my jaw hurt, I ripped the bolt from side with a painful grunt and grabbed the crossbow.

I held it in place with my boot, putting the bolt between my teeth and grabbed the line. I pulled it back, biting down on the bolt; putting my shoulders and arms into the pull as much as I could to take the pressure off my sides.

It finally locked and as fast as I could, I put the bolt in place and fell back as the walker came up fast.

I barely had it trained before I pulled the trigger and the bolt pierced straight through its forehead.

The walker dropped dead on it’s stomach next to me; the bolt pushing further into its head, coming out the top of the skull.

I panted, laying my head back against the sandy dirt.

That was too close.

My crossbow lulled against my heaving chest, almost hitting me in the chin and I moved it down to rest on my stomach while I recovered.


	39. Chapter 39

I sighed, staring at the red cloth nailed to a tree.

I’ve made it all the way to Rick & Shane’s grid, and not a damn thing— not so much as a feeling of going in the right direction.

My grid is twice the size of everyone except Daryl’s. If I haven’t found anything she probably never made it out this far, and I don’t know if that’s good or bad.

I scratched my neck and wiped the sweat from my forehead.

I’m not giving up. Not yet. It’s just— ...it’s hard not to lose hope of finding her alive at this rate. If at all.

I shook my head and ran my tongue over my dry lips. I should’ve brought a water bottle with me. I’m gonna be dehydrated by the time I make it back to the farm.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt more dejected to have _ finished _something in my entire life.

Aside from a few years ago when I ate two entire pizzas in a half hour. Those I regretted finishing but I more than paid for it then.

What am I doin?... thinking about pizza, when I’m supposed to be finding a lost child.

Come on, kid..._ please _ be alright. Just hold on a little longer. We’ll find you. I promise.

Abruptly turning, I began the trudge back.

Last I knew, things were going well with Hershel and his family, and letting us stay here but… I don’t know what’s going on right now. I still feel like we’re swaying in the wind.

It could be because I haven’t spent nearly as much time on the farm as I’ve spent combing these woods.

It’s definitely the safest place we’ve been so far. Massive sight lines, wide open areas, water sources, woods, plenty of food and resources. Even some defensible positions. The safety isn’t in question.

It doesn’t feel stable. And I’d like to say I don’t know why, but I’ve got a few ideas. And they all start with one person.

* * *

**  
Daryl’s POV**

_“Daryl...wake up. You have to get up. Get up!_ _Daryl,_**_ wake up_**_!”_

Sunlight streamed against my squinted eyes.

After a hazy moment, I came back to where I am but there’s no one else here. Not unless ya count the two walker bodies on the ground by me.

I could’a sworn I heard somethin’. There ain’t nothin’ but trees, bushes, and dirt.

I laid back, looking at the sky before I pulled myself up.

My side pulled and ached as I sat up, and I could feel the blood running down my skin. If I don’ take care a this I ain’t gonna make it back to the farm.

Stripping off my shirt, I folded it and used it to stop the bleeding from the hole pulling out the bolt left.

I glanced around again while tying the knots, like I was expectin’ someone to come outta the trees but no one did.

I don’t know why or who I was expectin’ to see but what matters is they ain’t ‘ere.

“Son o’ bitch was right” Only person who’s gonna help me, is me.

I grabbed my crossbow and hauled it over my shoulder as I stood. I went over to the downed tree on the edge of the water and sat down, pulling the squirrel from earlier off my belt.

I splashed my knife off in the water, and cut it open.

I stabbed my knife into the wood in front of me and dug through the squirrel, popping pieces of it into my mouth.

I licked my fingers, looking up at the ridge but somethin’ at the base caught my attention. I reached around me, checking for the doll and sighed. Musta fell when I stood up.

I finished the squirrel, pulled my knife out of the tree as I stood and picked up ‘er doll; securing the doll in my waistband.

I took the shoelaces from one of the walkers and tied ‘em together before cutting the ears off the walkers and stringin’ ‘em together.

I put my knife away and put them around my neck. One less thing to worry about now. I’ll be just another walker to any that come stumblin’ by.

I grabbed another stick, striding determinedly to the mountain side I’ve been tryna climb all damn day.

If I fall again, this time it better kill me.

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

I trudged up the farm’s dirt road, heading into camp.

I see Andrea and T are back, and Shane & Rick— everyone except Daryl’s already back from their grids.

Somebody better have some good news today.

As I got closer, T-Dog looked at me and I searched his face. He shook his head and I looked at Rick and Shane. Neither noticed, as Rick’s busy glaring at Shane from a distance.

My fingernails dug into my palms.

_ Damnit! _

I kicked a rock as hard as I could, sending the grey pebble soaring into the side of the RV.

Everyone turned my way, but I couldn’t bring myself to form an apology smile, so I walked away, harshly rubbing at my head.

I didn’t mean to scare anyone but God— we’re running out of time. Every second she’s out there alone, her chances of surviving go down.

It’s already been too long. If we don’t find her within the next 3 days, we’re never going to.

If she hasn’t found food or water, or shelter by now, she’s already dead. And if she has found those things but the food or water made her sick, she won’t be able to keep going by herself.

Jesus— I hope Daryl’s had more luck today.

I pulled out my hair tie and ran my hand over my head, through my hair.

Where is he anyway?

He’s probably staying out longer. He does have a horse, he can cover more ground than the rest of us(on foot) combined.

I stormed into my tent, not bothering to close it and tore my shoes off with a level of frustration I haven’t had in a long time.

My hair fell over my cheeks, dangling in front of me as I sat down, resting my elbows on my knees.

What are we gonna do if we don’t find her?

“Eve?” a hesitant voice drew my attention to outside my tent where Carl was standing, looking at me warily.

I let out a breath I didn’t know was stuck in my chest and gave him a tired smile.

I scratched my neck, motioning for him to come in. He hesitated but took his shoes off and sat in front of me.

“You don’t have to worry you know. We’re gonna find her.”

I looked at him and an honest smile spread across my face. I ruffled his hair.

Reassurance is supposed to be my job, kiddo.

Carl squinted to the side of me, “Why’s there a bandaid in your hair?”

I looked down and huffed that section of my hair away from me, scowling at it as it drifted back down.

Here we go again.

I tried to untangle the sticky contraption but after two minutes of watching me struggle Carl scooted forward, “I got it”

I let him push my hands away and take over trying to get it out. This little sucker is really tangled.

While he did that, I awkwardly reached for my backpack and dug through until I found my nail clippers. I might as well take care of all this while I’m just sitting here.

* * *

I was almost finished clipping my fingernails and Carl’s got it mostly untangled but I gotta say, this is the last thing I expected to be doing today.

He’s doing better than I was, though.

“What are you doing?”

I looked over/through my hair, at the opening where Glenn was standing, watching us.

“She’s got a bandaid stuck in her hair.”

Glenn started laughing and I flipped him off before realizing Carl is present and quickly retracted my finger.

Damage done, he’s already giggling.

“Aha!” Carl pulled the little devil free and Glenn cheered holding out his hand. Carl high fived him, then me.

Carl got up and put his shoes back on, and I reached for my own, pulling them on less angrily than I’d taken them off, and we all exited my tent.

“Oh uh, Lori and Carol are cooking dinner in the house for everybody.” Glenn turned back to us.

Oh good, I’m starving. I haven’t eaten all day(I think. Sure feels like I haven’t).

I nodded, giving him a pat on the shoulder and a thankful smile.

Speaking of everybody, Daryl should’ve been back by now. Where is that hunter?

I went over by the RV and got on the roof, where Andrea’s keeping watch.

I picked up the binoculars next to her and gave a brief smile before scanning the treeline.

* * *

Half an hour passed by and I’ve been pacing a trail in the RV’s roof.

He should be back by now. Something doesn’t feel right.

He should’ve been back before me, he’s got a _ horse _.

Did something happen? He’s Daryl, what could’ve happened? He’s still human.

I looked at the edge of the forest for the umpteenth time in the last five minutes.

“Would you _ please _sit down? You’re burning a hole in the floor.” Andrea pleaded, motioning to the chair next to her.

I chewed my bottom lip before sitting but it wasn’t two seconds before my leg began restlessly bouncing and my eyes flickered to the treeline once again, scanning for anything moving.

“You’re really worried about him aren’t you?” I glanced at Dale who came up next to the RV.

I didn’t answer but I can’t shake this.

_ It’s been too long _.

I got down and grabbed Dale’s wrist without thinking, making him jump. I checked his watch before looking at the sun.

That’s it, I can’t take this any longer.

Abruptly walking away, I checked my hand gun’s clip before grabbing my jacket out of my tent and pulling it over my shoulders.

“What are you doing?” Glenn jumped up from his seat by the firepit as I pulled my night vision goggles out of my backpack and pulled the strap over my neck.

“I’m going to look for him.” I started running for the treeline, knowing full well if I don’t, someone will try to stop me.

Rick was right there in camp. I have to get away before he can talk me outta this— and I do believe h’s _ capable of that _. It’s his damn superpower.


	40. Chapter 40

**Daryl’s POV**

I looked up at a bird caw, keeping a tight grip on the small tree in my grasp, and watched 3 or 4 of ‘em circling above the canopy.

“Please, don’t feed the birds.”

I tilted my head back, looking up behind me and watched my brother walk up to the edge at the top of the ridge.

I looked back to what I was doing, re-positioning my grip before taking the next step.

Merle’s rough laugh taunted me from just yards above, “What’s the matter, Darylina? That all you got in you?”

I pulled myself up backwards onto the next lip, groaning while my side throbbed, and grabbed my next hand hold.

“Throw away that purse and climb.”

I held onto the thick enough roots, shuffling my feet along the inches wide ledge.

“I liked it better when you was missin” I tried to concentrate on climbing but Merle continued to make it difficult.

_ “ _ Oh come on, now. Don’ be like that. I’m on your side _ ” _Merle laughed.

My crossbow hit me in the leg as I moved for the hundredth time. Hanging it off my neck ain’t exactly easy but it’ll just get in the way anywhere else. I’m gonna have a Hell of a bruise later.

“Yeah? Since when?” I reached for a small tree, using it while I carefully maneuvered my feet along the unstable dirt.

“Hell, since the day you were born, baby brother. Somebody had to look after your worthless ass.”

I almost scoffed. “You never took care a me. Talk a big game but you was never there. Hell, you ain’t here now. Guess some things never change.” I pulled myself over the next ledge, cutting another 3 feet off my climb.

“Well, I’ll tell you what—...I’m as real as your _ Chupacabra _”

“I know what I saw.” I grit my teeth as I pulled myself up backwards again and turned around to find my hand holds. Pullin’ myself up backwards works a Hell of a lot better than what I was doin’ before. It don’ hurt as much.

“Yeah, and I’m sure them shrooms you ate had nothing to do with it, right?” Merle mocked.

“You’d best _ shut the Hell up _!” I glared at him. I’ve had it with this.

“_ Or whaaaat? _ You gonna come up here and shut my mouth for me? Well, come on and _ do it _ then, if you think you’re man enough. _ Hey _ ! Kick off them damn _ high heels _ and _ climb _, son.” Merle’s laugh grated on my last nerve.

Fine, then. Have it your way.

I grit teeth, my blood boiling, and grabbed the trees so hard my knuckles turned white.

“You know what? If I were you I’d take a pause for the cause, brother. Cause I just don’t think you gonna make it to the top.”

I swung my legs up using a small tree, getting closer to my asshole of a brother by the step; ready to punch him out the second I get up there.

“Come on. Come on, little brother. Grab your friend Rick’s hand.”

I slammed my hand into the dirt at the top. Right in front of his feet and pulled myself up.

My side hurt like a bitch, my throat feels like sandpaper but I got up.

I made it to the top and used the big tree beside me to stand up in a rush.

I looked for Merle, through the trees in every direction 'cept the one I came from but he’s gone.

“Yeah you _ better _run!”

I glanced at the sky, and started back the way I came.

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

I’m not a tracker but horse tracks aren’t as difficult to follow as I thought.

It’ll take me hours to catch up at this rate though.

He’s been gone all day and I’ve no idea where he actually went aside from the vague ‘ridge’. He could’ve gone miles on a horse, a lot faster than I can on foot.

God I’m being paranoid. This is probably gonna play out like it always does.

I find him. He’s fine. I scare him— almost get cut or impaled. He makes fun of me for coming to find him, teasing ensues, and we either search as a team for a while, or go back to the farm (relatively)unscathed.

I’m gonna be in so much trouble when I get back. I can already see a disgruntled Rick pulling me aside and scolding me for taking off like this.

_ ‘That was a stupid and dangerous thing you did, Eve. At least take some backup if yer gonna go runnin’ off into the woods.’ _

I let out a sigh.

Sometimes I think Rick’s too good for this world. Other times, he’s exactly what it needs.

* * *

I stopped to take a breather and check my surroundings before leaning back against a tree. I’ve been following these tracks but I feel like I’ve been going in circles.

I blew a heavy, frustrated sigh through my nose.

He’s probably already made it back by now and I’m just wanderin’ around out here like an idiot. Hell— he’s probably tracking _ me _ down right now.

Maybe I should just go back. If he’s still not back, _ then _ I’ll get Rick and some others to come out here and help.

I turned around to follow my own trail back but I don’t feel right; Not doing something about this feeling beating my gut like a pinata. It’s gradually been getting worse since it started but nothing’s satiated it so far.

* * *

**Daryl’s POV**

Finally back on the farm, where I can see the house; ‘bout damn time.

My chest heaved as I dragged my crossbow behind me through the grass, each pant burnin’ my dry mouth and throat.

I looked up from the ground to somethin’ movin’ ahead of me. T, Shane, Rick, and Glenn were running towards me. I stopped when Rick trained his gun on me and they all stopped in front of me.

Ugh, this shit again.

“Is that Daryl?” Glenn panted. Who else would I be?

“That’s the third time you’ve pointed that thing at my head.”

The four of them staggered with relief, and Rick lowered his gun with a sigh; his shoulders visibly relaxing.

“You gon’ pull the trigger or what?”

My head snapped to the side, my shoulder hit the ground hard as the thundering crack of a gunshot kicked through the empty sky.

A dull burn ignited on the left side of my head. I heard Rick yellin’ but I couldn’t tell ya what he was sayin’ if I wanted to.

Rick pulled the shoelace from my string of ears out of my mouth and grabbed my arm.

I reached for my head and pulled away bloody fingers.

“I was _ kiddin _’”

Shane grabbed my other shoulder and they hauled me onto my feet which refused to help.

The world was spinning even before I was upright but the edges of my vision faded, I blinked and everything went black.

* * *

“I found it washed up on the creek bed right there. She must’ve dropped it crossing it somewhere.” I pointed on the map, trying to keep my hands behind my head to keep my arms out of the way while Hershel tied off yet another stitch in my side.

“Cuts the grid almost in half.” Rick glanced at Shane by the window and I felt another prick.

“Yeah, _ you’re welcome _.” I looked down to watch Hershel doin’ up the final stitches.

“How’s he lookin’?” Rick looked to Hershel.

“I had no idea we’d be goin’ through the anti-biotics so quickly.” Hershel cut the string and went over to a bowl on the dresser to wash his hands.

“Any idea what happened to my horse?” he looked at me.

“Yeah the one that almost killed me? If it’s smart it left the country.” I shifted on the bed to keep from slidin’ off.

The stitches are uncomfortable and pinch when I turn just a bit in the wrong way, but it ain’t worse than gettin’ shot by ma own crossbow.

“We call that one, Nelly. As in Nervous Nelly. I could’ve told you she’d throw you, if you’d bothered to ask.”

I rolled my eyes as Hershel walked over to Rick at the foot of the bed.

“It’s a wonder you people have survived this long.”

Rick glanced at the ground, like he usually does when ‘e feels guilty ‘bout somethin’.

“I should’a gone with Eve. She knew somethin’ wasn’t right— that you’d been gone too long. I should’a listened. I’m sorry.”

“Hey man, that ain’t yer fault. You couldn’t a gone with ‘er if you tried. She’s the one who just took off.” Shane shifted his hat, glancing out the window.

My face scrunched at the center of my forehead, “What’re ya talkin’ about?”

“Eve took off a couple ‘ours ago. Said she was gon’ look for ya.” Shane paused, glancing at Rick and Hershel. “She ain’t back yet.”

She went lookin’ for me?

Rick brought his eyes up from his boots, meetin’ mine. “If she’s not back in the next half an hour, we’ll go look for ‘er. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

I ain’t entirely sure why he’s tellin’ _ me _ this but I nodded and watched Shane and ‘im leave the room.

I heard talkin’ in the hall but didn’t listen, instead I looked at the ol’ man.

“‘Ey, who shot me?”

“Andrea, I believe.” Hershel glanced at me before headin’ for the door.

“Get some rest. You’ll stay in here tonight so I can keep an eye on you.” Hershel left the room without waiting for a response.

Never thought I’d be _ lucky _someone ain’t a good shot. If Eve, Rick, or Shane had taken that shot, I’d be dead.

Speakin’ of Eve. She best be alright. I ain’t comin’ to pull ‘er out a hole this time if she gets inta trouble.

For someone who can take of ‘erself, that woman gets into a lot a trouble.


	41. Chapter 41

**Eve’s POV**

Oh damn, I can smell the food from here.

I jumped the fence to the farm instead of going all the way around and undoing the gate, I don’t have the patience for that right now.

I don’t know how everyone does it. I can’t idle like they do.

I have to keep moving— be doing _ something _ ; Occupy my brain or my body, I can’t just sit unless _ that’s _my task. If that makes sense.

I can keep watch and sit still as stone when I’m hiding but that’s _ part _ of what I’m supposed to be doing. My patience isn’t lacking, my ability to more or less stand down, is iffy at best.

When every second counts, I—...I can’t let my mind wander to cold places, or begin to question my resolve. I might not get it back.

Exhausted, my feet dragged themselves as I walked through my strangely deserted camp.

I peeked in a tent or two, but there’s not even someone on the RV, taking watch. The fire isn’t lit. Where is everyone?

Looking around, my eyes landed on the house. The lights are on up there, so there must be _ somebody _ here.

Oh God, please don’t tell me they went looking. Nothing good ever comes from any one of them going into the forest to search for either me, _ or _Daryl.

I made my way up to the house with my lead legs and tried to jog up the porch steps. Big mistake.

Reaching the top step, my boot caught on the top stair and I nearly went face first into the screen door.

My hands flew up reflexively; smacking against the door frame before my cheek made contact.

My breath fogged on the glass of the screen door. That was a close one.

Straightening, I glanced around to make sure no one saw that before I went inside and saw Maggie, Beth, Jimmy, and Glenn sniggering my way.

I stuck my tongue out at them as I got closer. Everyone was in the dining room eating dinner.

Why wasn’t I told about Thanksgiving? Although, I don’t remember it being November. I could be mistaken what with the apocalypse and all, but I could’ve sworn it was—

“Welcome back” Rick turned, setting his fork down.

I nodded in acknowledgement, taking notice of the strange relief on their faces.

Kay I know my last few days haven’t exactly been the most reassuring display of skill, but there’s no reason for this amount of disconcert in my few hours of absence.

“We weren’t sure when you’d be back, so I left you a plate in the kitchen.” Carol pointed over her shoulder.

I flashed a grateful smile and gave her shoulder a thankful pat as I made my way across the room to the kitchen.

I grabbed the plate off the counter, along with a fork and guzzled my water before going back into the other room.

“Does anybody know how to play guitar?” Glenn asked, half turned in his seat to face the rest of the adults lining the room. I’m sorry Glenn, but you sit at the kiddie table with the rest of the under 25-ers.

The silence he was met with was awkward even for me.

Something happen I don’t know about? I’ve only been gone a few hours and everyone here looks like someone spit in the juice.

“Dale found a cool one” he tried again.

Stone cold silence...and a few —frankly unnerving— long stares; the type you get from a parental figure when they’re simultaneously trying to figure out why you thought that was a good idea, and trying to punish you for it.

Good lord, I _ really _ can’t leave for more than ten minutes without something breaking, can I? What am I, the babysitter? Rick and Shane were _ cops _ why am I the peacekeeping/authoritative figure? Is this what internal affairs feel— felt like every day?

Glenn half-sigh half-chuckled, “Somebody’s gotta know how to play”

Okay, this is gettin’ sad.

I raised my hand— fork but nobody was looking at me. It occurs to me, they might not know I’m here— er back. I am eating in the doorway instead of the table. They’re all kinda just...looking at their plates or glaring at one another.

I tried not to sigh as I leaned against the door-frame and shoveled another bite of mashed potatoes in my mouth, but it wasn’t easy. I feel like a foreigner watching other people try and fail to speak my native language. Not funny failing though, more like...awkward and offensive.

The tension here is so thick I can almost taste it.

“Otis did” Patricia finally spoke up.

…

I slowly put my hand down, awkwardly returning to filling my empty stomach.

Mmm— son of the round table, I’ve missed mashed potatoes. Is there any salt?

“Yes, and he was very good too.” Hershel gave her a long look I don’t quite understand. Best I can describe, is something encouraging, or sympathetic— maybe both. Probably both.

Glenn awkwardly turned back around and returned to his food. I spotted the shaker on the table and stepped forward to snag it and coat my meal.

I didn’t notice before but I don’t see Daryl here. He wasn’t outside either.

“He’s in the bedroom.”

I looked at Dale, who’s staring at me with that knowing look he gets.

How did he—? He must’ve seen me lookin’ around.

I swear, you scare me sometimes Dale. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone quite as perceptive as you.

Why is Daryl in the bedroom?

Whoa, kay— what’s with the smiling at me now? Why is Carol— why are people smiling at me? Why do you look like they’re trying not to laugh?! What is going on!?!

“Eve, you’ve got somethin’ on your uh...” T-Dog motioned at his chest, failing to not grin and I looked down.

Oh that’s lovely. Thank you _ so much, _Dale, for distracting me to this point. You’re a true friend.

I scooped up the bite of mashed potatoes getting cozy on my cleavage and shovelled it into my mouth, snapping my jaw shut. 

_ Just for that _. I started cleaning my plate of all traces of mashed vegetable. Pausing only to scratch my neck.

Carol stood from her place at the end of the long table and smiled at me as she past into the kitchen. “Finish your dinner then you can go see him. Yeah?”

I nodded, stepping out of her way and once she was through, I got another serving of the offending food from the center bowl of the table.

Wow, kay. We should never do this again.

I think we’ve just set the world record for how fast things can turn awkward. You lot have one skill: making shit tense, and usually it turns into a fight but this feels more...mmm, post-fight.

Again though, why is Daryl in the bedroom and not out here eating? Is he brooding about somethin’? Is that why it’s awkward as shit in here?

* * *

**Daryl’s POV**

Where the Hell is she? It’s already dark. If she fell in another hole—

The door opened behind me and I looked over my shoulder, half expectin’ it to be her but Carol came in with a tray.

I pulled the sheet up over my side and chest, covering as much of my skin as I could and turned away from her.

“How you feelin’?” Carol asked.

“Bout as good as I look” my voice is rougher than usual; sore from breathin’ so hard earlier.

“I brought you some dinner. You must be starvin’.” Carol’s voice came out quiet as usual, but softer than normal.

I glanced at it but honestly, I don’t feel much like eatin’. The squirrel was enough.

There was an awkward pause, and I expected her to just leave but she ain’t movin’.

Carol finally gave a small tight smile and I thought that would be the end of it but apparently not. She leaned over, and as much as I hate to admit it, I flinched.

That made her hesitate but she still kissed me on the temple.

I focused on the sheet farthest away from her, picking at the loose strings. “...Watch out, I got stitches.”

I thought she was gon’ leave after another awkward silence but she started talkin’ again.

“You need to know somethin”

I looked back over my shoulder.

“You did more for my little girl today, than her own daddy ever did in his whole life.”

Shifting, I turned back to the section of the blanket my fingers are workin’ on. “I didn’t do anythin’ Rick or Shane wouldn’t a done.”

“I know.” her voice cracked; a smile in her tone. “You’re every bit as good as them..._ Every bit _.” Carol began to leave before she stopped and turned back.

“By the way, you’ve got a visitor.”

_ Visitor? _ I looked at her as she left and a second later the Swamp Monster herself walked in.

“Look what the cat dragged in. The Hell ya been?” I shifted onto my elbows to see her more clearly.

Eve’s lips pulled into a tight line, anticipatin’ mockery. I was thinkin’ bout it but she’s draggin ‘er feet; Looks almost as exhausted as I felt earlier.

Eve trudged over and flicked my leg. I moved it, letting her sit on the edge of the bed and as soon as she sat down, she sighed, blowing out ‘er mouth.

Head lulling to the side, her eyes fell on the bandages and I watched her eyebrows knit together.

“I fell”

She blinked, straightening her neck to look directly at me.

Good lord. I can almost hear ‘er sayin, _ “Into a truck?” _

“What’re ya my mother? You gon scold me?”

Eve smiled with a ‘pfft’ and rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

The lighthearted atmosphere didn’t last long. She leaned over, resting her elbows on her knees and looked at ‘er hands.

As usual she’s got a few scrapes, but it ain’t surprisin’.

“Guessin’ you didn’t find nothin’ either.”

She shook her head.

_ Damnit _. Where the Hell can that lil’ girl be?

Eve smacked my wrist away from my head, startling me. I didn’t even realize I was gonna touch the bandage.

“_ Jesus _, yur hands are freezin’” How long was she out there? Hand felt like a damn ice cube.

Eve looked at ‘er hands before breathing on them and rubbing them together.

We sat in (somewhat)comfortable silence and I picked at the tray a bit. The juice or whatever didn’t help my throat much but it’s better than nothin’.

The mattress shifted when Eve did, and I watched ‘er scratch a red blotch on ‘er neck and pull a velvet pouch from ‘er pocket.

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

“Wanna play cards?” I took the cards out of the sleeve and shuffled them in my hands.

Daryl looked at me, less startled than usual at my voice, scoffed and scooched over a bit.

I toed off my boots and sat criss-cross on the bed, setting up the cards.

“Go fish or Texas hold’em?”

“What’re you, five?” Daryl scowled at me incredulously.

“Texas Hold’em it is” I smiled, dealing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
I've set up a Ko-Fi!  
https://ko-fi.com/miimaas
> 
> For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an amazing website that helps creators get paid for their work. It's basically a busking/tipping service so I can keep writing!  
Tips would be much appreciated, but I'd be grateful even if you just checked out my profile!


	42. Chapter 42

Daryl pulled up his blanket again for the 9th time in ten minutes and I’ve finally had enough of it. It’s bad enough he’s barely touching that tray Carol left. As far as I know, he hasn’t eaten since this morning.

I understand why he’s hiding— trying to hide — those scars.

My shoulder rolled unconsciously. A knot tied my stomach, sinking by the second and forming a pit deeper than the one I was actually in the day before last.

And here I thought my gut was done havin’ somethin’ to say.

...Maybe it’s time_ . _

It’s not like I’ve been waitin’ for a “special moment”. Even if I was, this would be it. Wouldn’t it?

Before I could talk myself out of it, I set my cards down(face down) and slid my jacket off.

Daryl looked at me curiously, and when I grabbed the rim of my shirt he lurched, “What’re ya doin?”

I pulled the fabric up, being careful to keep the front of it from rising too high and twisted until I knew he could see them.

The circular burn scars on my shoulder blade.

It was quiet before but it’s deathly so now.

I side-eyed him as he took several uncomfortable but examining glances, before forcibly fixing his eyes on the cards in his hand.

Huh, he doesn’t usually have a problem staring at things. When it comes to stuff like this though… good to know he’s not as insensitive as he likes to believe.

Attempting to ignore the pull in my chest, I swallowed the extra saliva in my mouth. Geronimo.

“When I was 13, I was livin’ with this family with two other girls like me...The parents treated us well. Sent us to school, the mrs made dinner, bought us new school clothes, shoes, helped with our homework, asked how our day went when we came home.”

Daryl looked up from his cards to watch me carefully. Almost the way he looks at people he doesn’t trust.

“They were the nicest host family any of us ever had by far… ‘til our foster father’s drinking friends came ‘round.”

“Every Sunday. The wives would go out with their friends for girl’s night, while their husbands played cards or watched the game in the living room downstairs.”

“They drank, smoked. Talked about work, sports, their wives. All that nostalgia crap from high school and college.”

I shifted, tryna force a bit more air into my lungs than they want and swallow the constricting muscles in my throat.

“Every Sunday night...like clockwork, one of ‘em would come stumblin’ up the stairs to our room, the room the three of us shared.”

Daryl shifted; Something cold and burning setting in his gaze. I could only bring myself to take glances at him the more I recanted.

“One of the girls was younger than me—9 I think— but the other was much older. Nearly 18. I don’t remember their names anymore. Something starting with G or M.”

“...Whoever came up, would drag out the older girl. If she refused or fought back, they’d threaten to take one of us in her place.”

Daryl stiffened, his finger stopped picking at the corner of a card he was glaring at.

“Every time she came back, it was well past midnight. She’d come back crying, shaking. Lookin’ like she could fall down at any moment, and a few times she did. Barely makin’ it through the doorway.”

“I’d help her into bed, lock the door ...push one of our heavy storage chests in front of it, and lay with her while she cried ‘erself to sleep.”

“I wanted to help— make it stop but… I was just a kid. I didn’t know there _ was _ somethin’ I could do about it. Until some afternoon we were watching a movie, just the three of us.”

“I don’t remember why our foster parents weren’t there or even what movie it was, but I remember the exact moment I thought of it better than I remember my own face. And I couldn’t _ stop _thinkin’ about it.”

“Couldn’t even sleep that night… Next morning when we went to school, I went to the gym coach and asked him to teach me to be a fighter.”

“He said no.”

“What responsible adult would teach some 13 year old how to fight without their parents okay? I thought that was the end of it, I’d have to find another way, but I didn’t even get to the door before he said, you can’t teach someone to be somethin’ they already are.”

“First thing he taught me was, violence is just a means to an ends, but there’s more than one way to fight.”

_ ‘It’s easy to teach one, but no one can teach you the other, Rider. That’s somethin’ you either find on your own, or it finds you.’ _

“He was one of those real philosophical people you see in movies— it was almost unreal.” My lip quirked up remembering the time I compared him to the old man on Karate Kid and his _ face _ when I said it.

‘_ Child, that is the first and last time you compare a proud black man such as myself to some ancient Chinese guy teachin’ a teenager to wax a car. _’

“Everyday after school from then on, he trained me in mixed martial arts. It was brutal for a 13 year old but 6-7 weeks down the line, he told me there was nothing else he could teach me...Said I was the fastest learning student he’d ever seen let alone taught and asked why I was so committed.”

“...Why were ya?”

I didn’t expect him to be curious, let alone voice it. He’s been so quiet this whole time. Hasn’t even asked why I’m telling him this— which in all honesty is just a bit unsettling.

Part of me actually thought he would’ve asked me to stop by now. It’s weird when he’s quiet and I’m not.

“...—I never answered him but, when your life —or others you care about— are on the line, you either learn quick or...” I inhaled sharply, “Or face the fallout.”

Daryl looked down at the cards in his hand; givin’ me the distinct feeling he knows exactly what I’m talkin’ about.

I suspected before but now I don’t doubt he’s been somewhere ‘round there himself.

I don’t think he’s ever put his into words. I certainly haven’t before. I just...never felt the need to before now. Honestly I’m not sure why I’m doin’ it now.

I could’ve easily gone the rest of my life without tellin’ another soul. No one questions my silence for long.

“Right around then must’ve been when I quit talkin.” I startled myself by voicing that thought.

That’s never happened before; Speaking without realizing, before it’s too late.

“Why?”

“No longer had any reason to, I s’pose. Looking back, I’ve never been much of a talker. Before, I only spoke when I needed to, usually to ask for a hand. After, I didn’t need help anymore. I knew how to help myself.”

Daryl nodded, glancing down at the split he’s picked in the top of a worn card in his hand.

Now that I think about it...It’s not such a wild guess to assume we had similar childhoods.

He didn’t ask how I got these scars(and that’s a lovely reminder of the Joker). I recon he has some of his own, if not similar.

He hasn’t asked any questions really. Hasn’t even looked confused for the most part— like I imagine most would be during a conversation like this.

“...Did ya leave?”

I caught Daryl’s eyes for the first time since I opened my mouth.

_ Leave? Wha— _ I shook my head.

I didn’t leave then but in retrospect I probably should have. I never would have left without the other girls. I wouldn’t have left them there. Not in that place.

“Sunday came back ‘round. Before that week’s drunk 40 year old stumbled up the stairs, I told the other girls to grab their go bags. Every kid in the system has o— _ had _ one...even if they were hidden. Some of us took it so far as to hide two. One in the house, and one at a separate location, offsite. In case we couldn’t go back, or needed two for whatever reason.”

I wonder if that blue backpack is still in that drain pipe? It’s been around, what? 20 years since I stashed it. The cookies in that plastic sack are probably long inedible by now.

The blanket shifted, and I glanced to make sure my cards hadn’t flipped and given away my hand.

Uhhh, where was I? Oh, “I told ‘em to go out the window. While I hid just inside the bathroom at the top of the stairs, outta sight.”

“Before then I never thought I’d be thankful for that notorious top steps creaking. I don’t remember moving. It just happened. One minute I was waitin’ for it, the next...” I stared at the cards in my hand. The ace of spades warping into polished wood steps, in that dark staircase.

“My bare foot hitting his chest. Smellin’ like smoke and beer… And watchin’ him fall backwards down the stairs. The bottle in his hand shattering, glass scattered over the steps.”

Is my hand shaking? I clenched my hands tight, bending the cards under my fingertips.

“...I never saw him move...No bruises. No blood...almost like he’d drunk too much and conked out.”

A cold sweat set in on my neck; my hands growing clammy.

Dark looming eyes of the foster father fixed on me from the bottom step.

“I don’t know how— or when my foster father got there...but he was so—” Every muscle in my body tightened; Pain radiated from my jaw up through my skull.

The murderous eyes of my foster father burrowed into me, with every step he took.

“I don’t remember what happened...if I ran or not...doctor said it was shock or memory blockage— my brain trying to protect me or something. But I didn’t make it to the window like they had. If that’s even where I was going.”

“I’m not even sure I wanna know anymore. All I remember is that man above me, takin— taking the cigarette from his mouth, and that red glow disappearing from my sight.”

I only realized I was rolling my shoulder when my elbow brushed Daryl’s knee.

Forcing air into my lungs, my fingers started tingling. I looked at my hands shaking.

I can’t remember a lot of what happened, but I remember _ that _like it’s still happening.

“...The neighbors must’ve heard something and called the police, but by the time shields got there, he’d gone through 4 whole smokes. Didn’t take more than a single drag from any. Some took more than one smudge to put out.”

“I know what he planned to do. His belt was clue enough but he never got that far.” I rubbed my sweaty palm off on my knee, focusing on the pattern of the cards.

“Probably didn’t count on the neighbors coming back from their date early.”

I can feel Daryl looking at me and part of me wants to look up but I can’t. Not yet...I’m not far enough yet.

“What happened to the other two?” I could tell from Daryl’s voice he was uncomfortable but not in the way I expected him to be.

It could just be my imagination— probably is, but it sounds more like he’s uncomfortable that I’m uncomfortable, not with my telling him this.

Maybe it’s the sheer amount of talking I’ve done in the last hour. It’s more than he can handle.

The question about the other girls is more than a welcome distraction from the other stuff, but it still took me by surprise. He’s just full of that tonight. Or maybe It’s me who’s off their game.

“I never saw ‘em again.”

I can barely remember their faces anymore. Nevermind what they would look like today, if they’re still alive somewhere.

“‘Ey” I flinched when Daryl touched my knee; Harshly reeling back to the present. Before the bud could touch down, I put as much mental distance between me and then as possible.

I tried to swallow, acid burning in the back of my throat. My chest pulling and burning. My vision swam, my stomach soaring like it would standing on a cliff edge.

Oh God, no, no, no, no, no— 

“‘ey”

I was wrong— you can still be afraid of something after it’s long gone.

“Eve!” Daryl grabbed my wrist and my eyes snapped up so fast it made me nauseous.

Breathe. It was a long time ago. We’re fine. He’s dead. They’re all dead. Never coming back.

* * *

**Daryl’s POV**

“What’s goin’ on?!” The door flung open, and Beth looked between us.

“I don’t know— go get Hershel_ , now _”

Beth nodded and ran down the hall, shouting for her dad.

Eve grabbed my wrist, breathin’ like she’s runnin’ a marathon. Her other hand gripped at her chest tightly. ‘Er knuckles are white but she’s still shaking.

The Hell is happenin’ is she having an asthma attack or somethin?!

Rushed, heavy footsteps came down the hall and Hershel, Beth, and Maggie came through the door a second later.

“What happened?” he came up to her and Eve put her hand up to stop him in his tracks.

“Don’t know, she was fine a minute ago. What the Hell’s happenin’ to ‘er?”

“She’s havin’ a panic attack.” Hershel answered.

This is the same thing that happened when she got outta that hole. And the CDC.

She was havin’ panic attacks? I didn’t think panic attacks were like this. I thought you were s’posed to get all scared, and bolt.

“Has this happened before?” Hershel asked Eve, but glanced at me too.

Eve nodded, returning her hand to her chest but s’far as I can tell it ain’t doin’ shit.

“I’m gonna need you all to calm down. You’ll only make it worse.” Hershel looked at me, and glanced over his shoulder at the two girls.

Eve’s nails dug into my wrist as she inhaled. Amber eyes blinking several times a second; way faster than ‘ey should.

This is becomin’ a habit.

“Is she gonna be okay, daddy?” Beth held onto her sister’s arm almost as tightly as Eve held my wrist.

“Of course. She’ll be alright._ Ain’t that right,_ _Eve_?”

Eve looked at him, and nodded but it don’t look like she was payin’ attention.

“I want you to match my breathin’ Eve.”

Eve looked like she was about to roll ‘er eyes but clamped ‘er mouth shut and forced herself to breathe through ‘er nose.

Hershel breathed with her. In through the nose, out the mouth, until her grip finally loosened on my wrist and ‘er breaths were gettin’ further and further spaced.

“Is this really all you can do for ‘er?” Maggie tentatively approached her father from behind.

“Unfortunately.” Hershel pulled a chair over from the wall and sat in front of Eve.

“I know it’s a scare, but it’s somethin’ she has to get through on ‘er own. Best thing you can do for ‘er is ask what she needs and comply.”

“For future reference” Hershel looked at me, glancing at Eve’s vice grip on my wrist. “Don’t ever leave ‘er alone if she’s havin’ an attack. Even if she tells you she’s fine. Don’t touch ‘er either unless she says so. Just stay with her. Help ‘er focus on breathin’ and wait ‘till she’s recovered.”

Guess I know why she flinched before. I gave a brief nod, watchin’ Eve calm down.

A tense few minutes ticked by with only breathin’ until she licked her lip and finally let go of my wrist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!
> 
> Also, I've set up a Ko-Fi!  
https://ko-fi.com/miimaas
> 
> For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an amazing website that helps creators get paid for their work. It's basically a busking/tipping service that’s the price of a single cup of coffee, so I can keep writing and you don’t have to commit to anything!  
Tips would be much appreciated, but I'd be grateful if you simply check out my profile!


	43. Chapter 43

**Eve’s POV**

My hand’s still shaking and it will be for awhile, but that’s alright. It’s never as bad as it used to be. Maybe some day it’ll be gone.

Inhaling a long deep breath, I collected the scattered cards in my lap, reshuffling them to fully distract myself for a few seconds.

I haven't had an attack so bad in years. In the last few years it’s been several close calls but...this time everything I know and use to deal with them flew right out the window.

I’ve been handling them on my own for so long, it’s strange for someone else to actually know what to do.

I looked to Hershel, “Thank you”

“There’s no need to thank me. I trust you know at least a few of your triggers?”

I nodded, running my tongue over my dry lips.

“It seems you have things well in hand, then. Come on, girls. Let’s let them rest.” Hershel stood, motioning at his daughters.

I quirked my eyebrow as the three of them shuffled out, closing the door behind them.

I glanced at Daryl and his expression is almost identical.

Wait, don’t tell me they think….

Awwwwkward

I shook my head, clearing my throat. Whatever, it doesn’t matter.

Daryl shifted, laying back down with an uncomfortable pinched expression. I’m gonna take a wild guess and say he’s in pain from sitting up.

I raised my cards and resumed our game, in hopes of erasing awkward tension. And, may also be to avoid the assault of questions that usually rains down after an attack.

Can we please skip this part, just this once?

“How long you been…?”

Damn

“Having panic attacks? A while.”

So close. If the tension had been just a little more awkward, he probably wouldn’t of said anything.

“They always like that?”

I sighed, resigning myself to this conversation. “More or less. They haven’t been that strong in a while though.”

“...” Daryl nodded, looking back at his cards and rearranging them in his hand.

…Is that it? That’s all he wanted to know? He’s not gonna ask why I have panic attacks, or what they’re about, or— well I guess he already knows what they’re about.

What the Hell. I’m not usually one for this, but this time, I’m not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth, and just take the win.

* * *

I rolled my shoulders and stretched my back, popping my spine. That’s what you get for sitting in the same position for a solid hour without so much as turning your head.

My shoulders hate me. Not as much as my thighs, or my heels for trudging around all day but still, I’ve had worse. I’d gladly take sore muscles over broken bones any day.

“In a lot a ways, I’m grateful for being in that house.”

Daryl looked at me like I just declared I’m gonna blow up Batman’s girlfriend, after proposing to a lawn gnome.

Think I just remembered why talking is tiresome. What was I trying to accomplish by telling him all this again? Whatever it was, I think I missed. By a long shot.

“What in the _ Hell _ could make ya _ grateful _ about that place?” His hoarse voice makes him sound angrier than he actually looks. But I don’t understand why he’s angry, in the first place.

Most people would’a been surprised, yeah, but not angry like this. Then again, he isn’t most people. Neither am I.

“If i’d never been in that house, I never would’a learned how to fight, or why it’s important to when others gives up. If I hadn’t been in that house and that stuff hadn’t happened. If I didn’t struggle afterwards, I’d have never figured out how lucky I’ve been. I never would’ve gotten these to remind me.” I gestured to my shoulder.

Daryl looked at me like a lunatic. “You call that luck? Why would ya wanna remember?”

“I didn’t for a long time. But I met somebody once. By sheer chance, and she told me something I’ve never forgotten. All a scar means, is you were stronger than what tried to break you.”

“I’m 90% sure she was quoting something and I don’t think she meant it to be taken so seriously, but… it helped. Still does.”

“Point I’m tryna make is, it could have been a lot worse. I’m still here, and they aren’t. So I’d say I got the better deal.”

* * *

**Daryl’s POV**

No wonder she could stand up to Merle. And I thought _ he _was the toughest person I ever knew.

I don’t understand this woman. How could someone just move on from somethin’ like that?

She had a panic attack barely half an hour ago, and she’s actin’ like it never happened.

Eve glanced at her cards, rearranging ‘em in her hand and I scowled at my own.

“If yer expectin’ me ta spill my guts now, forget it.” This is as good a time as any to keep playin’.

She laughed and I almost dropped my hand.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Everything was quiet for a bit, just the sound of cards before Eve clicked her tongue as she lost, again.

“You ever play Blackjack?”

I nodded, handing over my cards and watched her shuffle ‘em.

“The Hell we gon’ bet with?”

“...” Eve looked around, reaching over to the side table and opened the drawer. She dug around for a second before fishing out coins with a shrug.

She handed me the deck and started divvying up the coins.

I watched the treetops sway through the window, while I shuffled.

“You can actually see the sky out ‘ere.”

Eve hummed, looking out before setting the coins down and getting up.

She opened the window a crack, letting the breeze in. I didn’t notice how stuffy it felt in ‘ere before the rush of cool.

I expected her to sit back down right after but she stood there, lookin’ out the window.

For such an expressive person, she can be hard to read when she makes that vacant face. But she only makes it for a couple reasons.

“There ain’t a lot of walkers in this area from what we’ve seen. There’s every chance she’s alright, and just hold up somewhere waitin’ for someone to find ‘er.”

Eve nodded but she don’t look convinced.

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

“But it’s a big forest out there, Daryl… She could be anywhere.” I watched the tops of the trees rustle with the cold night breeze. The smell of oak, metal, and something I don’t even want to think about wafting all around us, even inside the house.

That smell— that...permanent stench of death, is everywhere. Staining the world, and no amount of vegetation, precipitation, and wind will ever be able to cleanse it. Not in our lifetimes.

It’s everywhere. Clinging to every crack, every memory. It’ll take centuries for it to be gone; whether humans are still around or not.

“As much as we’d like to, we can’t search forever. Sooner or later, we’re gonna have to face the music.”

“No we ain’t.” I looked back at Daryl.

“We’re gonna find ‘er.”

“I know we will. I’m not doubting that.”

I leaned back on the edge of the bed, looking at all the specs on the window. “But will we find her with a heartbeat?...”

* * *

I ultimately won but the whole last half of the game is honestly a bit vague. I felt like I was on autopilot.

Daryl fell asleep near the end(I think I might have dozed off for a few too) so I’m not sure if I can even consider this winning.

I was well on my way to conking out, myself. Having unintentionally used his ankle as a pillow a while ago.

It wasn’t as uncomfortable as I would’ve expected. Either that or I don’t have enough energy for my brain to bother recording the information.

How comfortable Daryl’s ankles are for sleeping isn’t exactly priority information, under any circumstance I can think of.

Something outside the room clinked and jolted me to a state of awareness.

I slapped my leg, before realising my gear was on the floor; my having ditched it after Daryl won the first round of Blackjack.

I glanced at the window, seeing how dark it had gotten. If I had to guess, it’s the darkest time of night; just before dawn.

Yawning, I sat up, careful not to wake Daryl and stretched my stiff shoulders. My spine cracked loud enough to make me flinch.

I cast a glance at Daryl to see if he’d woken up at that.

Daryl’s a light sleeper— most everyone is nowadays I imagine. I’ve been on watch long enough to know who is and isn’t likely to wake up to the slightest sound.

I waited a few long seconds, scraping my teeth over my bottom lip. His chest rose and fell with every influx of breath and I waited a good 4 beats before —_ carefully— _dragging myself to my feet.

The floor’s cold, even through my socks. I’m not used to walking around without my boots anymore. And isn’t that just sad. I hated wearing my shoes in my apartment before.

Now though, it almost feels uncomfortable not to have them on. Makes me somewhat anxious; not being ready-able to run at the drop of a hat.

Quietly collecting the cards, I stuffed them back into the velvet pouch where they belonged and shoved it in my pocket before moving the clinky coins back to the drawer.

Too bad I’m not a light sleeper. It could come in handy nowadays.

I sat on the floor and pulled my boots on, before grabbing my gear. Silently cursing at every little sound the metal made even though a mouse would likely be louder.

Moving closer to the bed, I made sure Daryl was still asleep. I don’t know how he can sleep with his hair stabbing his eye like that, or his arm at that angle for that matter. Maybe he’s more exhausted than he let on. I wouldn’t be surprised.

He’s not exactly forthcoming, and I did kinda keep him up longer than I probably should have. Both of us were up long past we should’ve been, to be honest.

My hand ghosted over his forehead, mindlessly moving the strands away before I pulled back like I’d been burned.

I closed the window and turned off the light, slipping out of the room without another sound. Closing the thankfully not squeaky door, behind me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!
> 
> I have a Ko-Fi!  
https://ko-fi.com/miimaas
> 
> For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an amazing website that helps creators get paid for their work. It's basically a busking/tipping service that’s the price of a single cup of coffee, so I can keep writing and you don’t have to commit to anything!  
Tips would be much appreciated, but I'd be grateful if you simply check out my profile!


	44. Chapter 44

Wandering outside in the dark was harder than I imagined. I’m not exactly accustomed to the layout of the Greene’s house, but once I made it outside, the bitterly cold night breeze made me regret not falling asleep inside.

If I wasn’t awake before, I am now. Mother of Pearl, it feels like an ice age out here.

I zipped up my jacket as high as it would go, fighting off a shiver, and crept down the porch steps; making a beeline for my tent.

I don’t want to wake anyone up but I can’t see too well, I’m freezing, and forgive me for dragging my feet now and then.

I made it to my tent and got inside as fast as possible, shutting out the cold with the thin veil supposed to protect me from the elements.

I fumbled over my stuff in the dark, searching for my spare clothes and changed quickly. I pulled my hair tie out, letting my waterfall of dark chocolate cascade over my shoulders.

If my hair didn’t help keep me warm and hide better(albeit minutely), I’d probably cut it all off.

I should probably cut it shorter anyway but that’s future me’s problem.

Yawning, I curled up in a tight ball under my sleeping bag; zipping it up well over my head. I scratched my neck and hid as far into the bottom of the sack as I could cram myself.

The whole thing will be a cocoon of sleepy warmth by morning, if I have anything to say about it.

It took a while before it was warm enough to let me sleep but the exhaustion helped send me off, the second the temperature was tolerable.

* * *

My stiff eyelids peeled open. The light is minimal but I can still see through the black fabric around me.

For about 3 seconds, it was a comfortable, sleepy warm. The type of warm that makes you wanna take a cat nap, but it quickly grew suffocating in the shrinking space.

I scrambled to pull myself out of my sleeping bag— just get it off my head, so I could breathe and calm down in the morning sunlight seeping through my tent.

Note to self, no matter how damn cold it is, cramming my claustrophobic hide to the very bottom of a sleeping bag is never a good idea. _ Especially _ if the zipper is crap and prone to getting stuck.

In a flurry of less than graceful movement, I wiggled out of my bag like there was a snake and crawled towards the exit; needing to get outside before things escalate out of control. One panic attack in the span of 24 hours is enough for me.

As soon as I was out, the breeze hit me, pushing my bedhead over my shoulders to tangle further in the wind.

I took a deep breath of the fresh, light morning breeze; which brought the smell of crisp dew and breakfast with it.

Oh lord, that smells amazing.

I turned back to change into my day clothes as fast as humanly possible. I need to wash the ones from yesterday too, they’re— ...not here?

They’ve gotta be, I’m certain I left them right here by the door last night.

I pulled apart my clothes, dug under my sleeping bag, and tossed stuff in every direction but they’re not here.

Where could they— What time is it?

I pulled my shoes on and left my tent once again, in search of answers.

Sizzling turned my head to the communal campfire. My mind derailed from finding my clothes at the growl of my stomach, and I jumped to the track of seeking food.

I spotted Carol knelt by the pit, making scrambled eggs and was beside her in a flash.

My mouth watered and she smiled, handing me a plate.

“You’re up late. Did you sleep okay?”

I smiled and gave a thumbs up, gratefully taking my plate and snagging a fork from a nearby plastic container.

I don’t remember how it came about that Carol cooks breakfast but for the sake of everyone, I’m glad it has. Lord knows what would happen if it were left up to me, or Glenn, or Andrea— we’d starve; or wind up with charcoal poisoning or something. At the very least, our taste buds wouldn’t stand a chance, they’d be wiped out in an afternoon.

I took a seat next to Daryl and began devouring my food as if someone would steal it off my plate. Hey, it’s happened before. A long, long time ago, but it happened. Which means it could happen again.

* * *

**Daryl’s POV**

I watched Eve _ inhale _ ‘er food, while I took time actually chewin’.

Does she know she eats like that? She’s always like that with food. Don’t matter what it is, either she eats it, er …stashes it.

I didn’t think kids in the system actually did stuff like that; thought all them rumors were bullshit. Guess some habits ya never kick. 

Before yesterday I didn’t even know she was in the system. I just assumed she was like everyone else ‘ere. Had a family before all this, and whatever.

It ain’t like she advertised it. She don’t advertise _ anythin’ _. Sharin’ just ain’t somethin’ she— either of us do.

Eve stood up, bringing me out of my thoughts and I watched her go back to her tent, ducking inside before she came back out with her gear.

Slowly people started waking up, and within the hour everyone was up and doin’ stuff.

* * *

I laid in my tent, pokin’ holes in the “window” with one of my bolts.

I managed to poke 4 before I heard someone coming. I thought it was Eve before Andrea’s voice came from the doorway.

“Hey” She stepped into my tent. “This is not that great, but uh...” she handed me a book as she sat down.

I opened the book, flicking through the pages. “What, no pictures?”

Andrea smiled guiltily. “I’m so sorry. I feel like shit.”

“Yeah, you and me both” I set the book down, readjusted my pillow behind my head and glanced at my bandaged side.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but if there’s anything I can do...” Andrea shook her head.

“You were tryna protect the group. We’re good.” I glanced at my arrow before looking back to her.

She gave a resigned tight lipped smile and stood, stepping out.

“But hey”

She paused, looking over her shoulder.

“Shoot me again. You best pray I’m dead.”

Andrea’s smile quirked up and she turned, almost running smack into Eve, who turned her shoulders last second to avoid ‘er.

“Ooph, sorry” Andrea touched Eve’s elbow. I haven’t noticed Eve tense like that when she’s touched, before.

Eve smiled dismissively at Andrea, letting her pass.

She looked at me with a slightly raised eyebrow, as she stepped inside and sat where Andrea had a second ago.

I shook my head, returning to poking holes in the window. “Came to say sorry for shootin’ me.”

Eve’s eyebrows shot to her hairline. Her amber eyes lookin’ more like gold in the direct sunlight over her face.

“What, ya didn’t know?” I scoffed.

Eve made an incredulous noise and shook her head. She pointed to my side.

“Nah. How d’ya think I got this” I turned pointing to my head.

“This s’where I shot myself with this.” I waved the bolt in my hand.

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

You did what?!

“Fell, my ass. What in Merlin’s name happened out there, Daryl?”

Daryl stared at me for several seconds before he sighed, gave in, and told me the whole story.

'_Jesus, and he tells _ ** _me_ ** _ to be careful?_'

At least I didn’t _ shoot myself, _ and get shot _ again _ by someone _ in my own group _.

Because you know, nearly dying once isn’t enough.

I stared at him and he rolled his eyes, scoffing. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Yer doin’ gun training today, right?”

I nodded, pulling my hair tie off my wrist and held it with my lips. I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling it up as I went, until I had all of it.

“And yer still goin’ out after that?”

I nodded again, pulling the elastic band around my hair, twisting & pulling over and over, ‘til it was all secured.

I pulled my reason for being here outta my pocket and stood, tossing the velvet pouch at Daryl.

He caught it and looked at it for a second. “Thanks. I won’ have to read a book without pictures for awhile.”

I chuckled on my way out, ducking under the rim of the tent. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s entertain with a deck of cards.

Now, why in the army crawling Hell, did Andrea shoot Daryl?

I know he can be a pain -he’s a Dixon- but what in Merlin’s name could he have done to deserve a shooting?

What was she thinking?

She doesn’t know how to handle that rifle. It takes thousands of hours of practice to be able to shoot a rifle like that. Honestly I’m shocked she hit him at all.

A noob like Andrea certainly wouldn’t know how to take wind, range, or mirage into account. That’s probably why she didn’t hit him but… now that I think about it… that was an incredible shot.

She’s never handled a rifle before— to my knowledge. She obviously didn’t know what she was doing or she would’a had him dead to rights.

I bet’cha I know what she did wrong other than not doing calculations. It’s a rookie mistake. She didn’t exhale on her squeeze.

Thank the stars she didn’t or Daryl would be dead. And she would follow suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!
> 
> I have a Ko-Fi!  
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> 
> For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an amazing website that makes it super easy for you to support people who create stuff. It's basically a tipping service so you can “buy a coffee” for someone who makes stuff you like.
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On my left, Shane produced a loud whistle sharp enough to make me flinch and clap my hand over my closest ear.

“Oi! Peach man”

I sent a glare at the side of his head as I held my ear, before leaning over the hood of the yellowish Cherokee once again.

“Creek flows South, past that farmhouse Daryl found. Maybe Sophia dropped the doll there, current brought it downstream.” Rick continued from the head of the hood, after that startling interruption from his partner.

You’d think he could hold out on having a peach ‘till we’re done talkin’ about finding a lost child.

“So what, you think she took this road here then she went North?” Shane ran his finger over the map, returning his focus to the man on his left.

“Yeah. What’s up that way?” Rick looked to Jimmy on his left.

“Housing development. It went in maybe 10 years ago” Jimmy answered, resting his chin on his palm opposite of me.

“Take a run up there after gun practice.” Rick looked to Shane. “I’ll hold down the fort here, but take backup.” He urged.

“After what went down with Daryl, I don’t want anyone going out alone— that includes you.” Rick pointed at me, “We stay in pairs.”

“I’ll take suggestions on a partner” Shane turned as Glenn came up with a basket; taking a peach off the top.

“See how they do on the range, then take your pick.” Rick turned, taking his own fruit.

I waved my hand, passing on the offering of food for once. I don’t wanna eat right before I go out. Not if running is all but a guarantee. Even if we’re doin’ gun training first.

...He’s not making eye contact.

“Thanks” Jimmy took a piece of fruit.

I eyed Glenn suspiciously and watched him look over his shoulder. My eyebrows knit together, following his line of sight to Lori, who is also looking this way— at Glenn.

No one else seemed to notice, surprisingly, but she looks nervous.

Glenn looks like he wants to say something, to Rick.

Oooo, I smell a secret.

I gave him an encouraging glance, trying to persuade him to speak his mind but before he could even open his mouth, Shane spoke around his mouthful.

“Binoculars”

“Huh? Yeah— oh yeah” Glenn put down the basket and pulled the optical device off his shoulder, handing them over to Shane.

I sighed and eyed Glenn with a ‘We will talk later’ look and I know he caught it because he grabbed that basket and is all but running away, with two rushed words, “Okay, bye.”

Rick & Shane shared a look with a me. So they did notice that, if not anything before.

Shane snorted and chuckled with Rick, shaking his head.

Whatever Glenn’s hiding, it involves Lori. Unless he was looking at another nervous homo sapien that I, a being with perfect 20/20 eyesight(last I checked), managed to miss.

I hoisted myself up onto the hood, leaning on my hand so I could see the map better and get off my feet for a bit. My heels are starting to complain.

Also, maybe, so I can get a better view of one Sheriff’s wife and low-key observe her behavior for a bit. Wow, that sounded way more stalker-ish than intended.

Why she and Glenn of all people are keeping a secret, is unusual, and concerning to say the least.

I don’t like being nosy, but being out of the loop is not only worse(for me), but nowadays it’s downright dangerous not to know what’s going on.

I’ll have to deal with the issue later though, I’ve gotta decide where I’m searching today.

If I’m gonna have a partner that isn’t as comfortable— or accustomed as Daryl & I in the woods, it’s gonna be different than the route I had planned for today.

I was gonna head up to that ridge Daryl went to, where he found the doll, but that’s too far out and too dangerous for just anyone— 

“We’d like to join you for gun trainin’ today.”

I looked up to two blondes, Patricia & Beth, approaching behind Jimmy.

“Hershel’s been very clear. I can’t involve any of you in what we do without his okay” Rick shifted from foot to foot, swallowing his mouthful.

That is very police-officer-like. It continues to surprise me, how much law enforcement behavior he displays in simple day to day life.

“He doesn’t like it, but he consented.” Beth assured him.

“Otis was the only one who knew guns.” Patricia spoke up, and at the mention of Otis, Shane went stiff. Rick shifted uncomfortably.

“Now that he’s gone… we gotta learn to protect ourselves.” Patricia went on. “Her father saw the sense in that _ . _ ”

I’m glad Patricia’s doing better.

I heard the click of a knife and looked over just as Shane started towards Carl; who was leaning against the RV, sharpening a stick with his switchblade.

I never got to meet Otis, but from what I know, he was a good person.

“No offense, but I’ll ask Hershel myself.” I can understand Rick’s lack of excitement to take risks right now.

We’re not exactly on the best of terms with Hershel from what I know. He is  _ really  _ bothered with us, for whatever reason.

I don’t understand what his problem is. As far as I know, we’ve held up our end of the deal.

Except I haven’t turned over my piece yet. I’ve been going out early and comin’ back so late I haven’t had a chance, but in my defense, I’ve been going out  _ every day, _ all day.

It makes little to no sense to turn over my piece for a measly few hours while I sleep before I need to get it out and take off again.

Besides, It’s not like I don’t know what I’m doing with guns; and I rarely use my piece in the first place.

It could probably use a cleaning, now that I think about it. I could do that during gun training, I suppose.

I’m supposed to be a supervising lookout, to be honest. In case the gunfire attracts some unwanted attention.

I’ll be teaching at least 1 person I know that but it’s mostly stuff they’ve just gotta get a feel for.

“Rick” Shane came stalking back, Carl in tow, looking somewhat peeved but mostly something I can’t place.

Carl’s eyes were trained on the ground and even a blind person could recognize the posture of a kid who knows they’re about to be in  _ a lot _ of trouble.

Shane held up a small black revolver as he got closer and I sighed, shielding my eyes with my hand.

This will end badly.

I dragged my hand down my face, kneading my cheeks before heading towards Carl.

* * *

“How the Hell did this happen?” Lori flicked the revolver’s bullet chamber shut with a  _ snap  _ as she came back over from where Carl was sat on a log in camp, and stood next to me in the circle of adults dealing with this _ . _

“Well, It’s my fault. I let him into the RV.” Dale spoke regretfully across from me.

“He said he wanted a walkie— that you sent him for one.” he gestured at Rick.

“So on top of everything else, he lied.” Lori put her hands on her hips, shoving the gun into her back pocket.

Carl’s eyes caught mine for a moment before he looked back down at his hands, clasped in front of him; resting his elbows on his knees.

He doesn’t look remorseful. He got caught but he doesn’t look as upset as expected of a kid his age. Honestly, he looks more…grown up.

Lori looked at her son, then her husband and whispered, “What’s he thinking?”

“He wants to learn how to shoot.” Shane answered, even though the question wasn’t directed at him.

“He asked me to teach him. Now. It’s— it’s none of my business but I’m happy to do it. It’s… it’s your call.”

“Well I’m not comfortable with it.” Lori laughed humorlessly.

Shane sighed on my right, clenching his jaw. Rick straightened up on Lori’s left, holding his breath and looked at Shane & me.

Shane sighed again, shaking his head a little.

I gave an ambivalent half-smile, accompanied by a stiff shrug.

I can see why Lori wouldn’t want Carl to, from a mother’s standpoint; She wants to protect him. But nowadays, that’s just not possible. Not completely.

We can’t protect him 24/7, and God forbid something happens to her or Rick, or the rest of us, and he be left to fend for himself.

“OH, don’t make me out to be the unreasonable one here. Rick?” Lori looked at her husband expectantly.

Rick turned towards his wife, already posturing to argue with her. I’ve seen him do this enough to know when he’s approaching an argument with a diffusing state of mind.

“I know. I have my concerns too but—” Rick started

“There’s no but. He was just  _ shot.  _ He is  _ just _ back on his feet and he wants a  _ gun _ ?” Lori makes a good point but— 

“Better than him being afraid of ‘em.” Rick argued. “There are guns in camp for a reason he should learn how to handle them safely.”

I gotta wonder how many times Rick’s argued with people like this. He’s scarily good at reasonable arguments.

“I don’t want my kid walkin’ around with a gun.” Lori near hissed.

Who said anything about walking around? Not even  _ we  _ can have our guns in camp. Hershel doesn’t even trust two previous  _ police officers  _ to walk around with their sidearms why on Earth would we let a kid?

“How can you defend that?” Rick looked off to the side for a moment. “You can’t let him go around without protection.”

“He’s as safe as he’ll ever be right here.” Lori argued. Rick shook his head, shifting on his feet.

“Like Sophia was?” I spoke up. All eyes turned to me, even Carl glanced up.

I hate to be the one to say it, but we fucked up. We’re not perfect, we can’t protect anyone 24/7 not even ourselves. The world is not going to let us have it our way.

Better we accept that now and make peace with it while we have the chance, or be forced to later.

“Look, everything you’re sayin’ makes perfect sense.” Lori looked at Rick. “It feels wrong. I mean, I didn’t feel good about him following you out into the woods, and I wish I’d said something. I should’ve gone with my gut.”

“He’s growin’ up. Thank God.” Rick argued. “We need— we need to start treatin’ him more like an adult.”

“Then he needs to act like one. He’s not  _ mature  _ enough to handle a gun.” Lori looked at Carl pointedly.

Carl abruptly stood and came towards us. “I’m not gonna play with it mom.”

...

“It’s not a toy. I’m sorry I disappointed you, but I wanna look for Sophia, and I wanna defend our camp. I can’t do that without a gun.” Carl shook his head.

Phew. You put up a tough argument, kid. I’m startin’ to see why Shane calls you ‘little  _ man’ _ .

“Shane’s the best instructor I know. I’ve seen him teach kids younger than Carl.” Rick spared a look at his partner.

Lori glanced before staring at her husband in contemplative silence for several more seconds.

She started moving and for a moment I thought she was gonna walk away but she stopped in front of Carl and took his chin, raising his eyeline up to hers.

“You will take this seriously. And you will behave responsibly. And if I hear from anybody in this camp that you are not livin’ up to our expectations—”

“He won’t let you down.” Rick intervened before Lori could draw the kid an impossible-to-follow list, a mile long.

“Yeah.” Carl gave a firm nod; Wisely, siding with his father.

Damn, that was a hard fought battle but I think we just won.

Your mama really knows how to make people sweat, kiddo.


	46. Chapter 46

I smiled and gave Carl a wink as his mother passed him by to continue whatever she has to do before we take off for gun practice today.

“Alright.” Rick sighed, like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. Fighting with your spouse like that can’t be easy. Especially when it comes to your kid.

“Now all we gotta do is decide who’ll teach who. Who do we have that already knows how to shoot?” Rick turned back to us, putting a hand on his son’s shoulder. Almost like a, ‘congratulations for winning an argument with your mother’.

“Present company excluded we’ve got, T-Dog, Glenn, Lori, and Daryl.” Shane listed.

“Daryl’s outta commission, so that leaves us with 3, 4…6 possible instructors.” Dale interjected.

“Have you ever taught anyone how to shoot?” Rick looked at me. 

I gave him a deadpan stare and just blinked.

I hate to burst your bubble,  _ sweetie _ , but I’m a better shot than you are. You may have been a police officer before, but I had an awful lot of free time, not much of a social life, and a fondness for the range near my place.

“Okay, then.” Rick’s amused tone was accompanied by a head shake.

He is just gettin’ trampled by women today. First Beth & Patricia, then Lori, now me.

“We only need to train 5 or 6 people, I’d say we’ve got all the instructors we need.” Shane rubbed his shaved head.

“Let’s get goin’ then.” Rick nodded. “Dale, I want you to stay behind, hold down the fort while we’re gone.”

Dale nodded, readjusting the rifle on his shoulder.

* * *

Agh, the ride here was so bumpy. I got out of the car and stretched my shoulders. We drove off road for like a mile to get here.

It wasn’t a particularly long ride, but it wasn’t a comfortable one.

Apparently Shane and I think it was Andrea, found this sight during their search.

It’s a fairly secluded area. It’s got several yards of space between the fence and treeline of the woods. The grassy hill behind this old wood fence acts as a natural backstop for the bullets.

It really is perfect for this. The only drawback is, we’ve gotta watch our backs against the trees for walkers we might attract.

We should count our blessings, there aren’t many walkers this far out from the major cities. I don’t imagine many get the chance to somewhat safely practice shooting nowadays.

“‘Ey, help us set these up along the fence” T-dog handed me a crate of old bottles and glass jars without even waiting for me to fully turn.

Since when did we have these? I don’t recall going on a container hunt.

I walked towards the far end of the fence, and set the crate down near a ‘Do Not Enter’ sign on the fence. You know, this fence kinda looks like the type horses jump.

I started setting them atop the thick fence, spacing them 1-2 feet apart. When my crate was finished off, I took it back to the cars and tossed it in the trunk with the rest.

Everybody’s pairing off with instructors already. Rick & Shane already taking Carl, Lori, Beth, and Patricia to their starting positions, several feet from their targets; almost exactly between the treeline and the fence.

I motioned at Andrea before she could be snatched up by someone else, but it didn’t look like anyone was going for her anyway(I don’t know why the Hell not). T already paired off with Jimmy and Rick and Shane have got their hands full.

So it looks like I’m teaching Andrea, Carol, and overseeing them plus Patricia.

I pointed and motioned at all three of them and they followed me to the far end of our setup.

They’ve all got their selected guns, so I don’t have to worry about teaching ‘em which gun is best for them. Shane took care of that in the car, I assume Rick did as well in the other vehicle.

Cleaning and whatnot will come later, and probably best left to Shane as he is our foremost expert in that.

Today, and my job is all about how to handle the weapon itself. How to aim, how the safety works, when to fire, remove and replace the clip, etc, etc.

The technical stuff, and polishing off skills will come later. Much later. After they’re all familiar enough with their weapons to have no trouble shooting what comes at them.

I showed each of them how to handle their weapon, spaced the three several feet apart mostly for safety reasons, and gave them their target bottles & cans along the fencing.

I stood back from Andrea at the farthest end, to watch and keep watch while the shooting began.

The easy part is done, now to the piece I’m actually interested in. Seeing how well they all do.

* * *

I sat on a tree stump behind Andrea; cleaning my piece and keeping an eye out for anything that’s cause for concern while I watch my pupils nailing almost every shot.

It took them a few shots to get the hang of it, aside from Ms. Queen of aim herself, but after they did, they’ve yet to miss.

I’d like to say, ‘Damn I’m good’ but I really haven’t done much. They’re doing all the leg work, all I’m doing is slight corrections when they stray. Like a spotter for a gymnast.

This is pretty boring in all honesty, though.

I’m surprised these guys are above decent shots, actually. For the most part. As far as I know, none of them have handled firearms before.

I don’t know if it’s their own innate talent, the survival instinct of needing the skill, the quality of those teaching, or a combination of everything but whatever it is, I’m glad. For their sake.

I watched Andrea shoot again, and good grief. She’s a damn fine shot. She’s got intuitive aim like I’ve never seen. Almost too good to believe.

Although... I’m likin’ Beth’s aim. Too bad I can’t ask her to come out with me today. Hershel would have a cow. Plus she’s pretty young too, and I’d rather not risk her life if I can help it. She may not fare well in the wilderness anyway.

I’d ask T-Dog but his arm hasn’t healed yet and if we got into a sticky situation, it would only be a hindrance.

Jimmy’s a decent shot but again, he’s the same as Beth. Young and under Hershel’s wing.

Maybe I should’ve asked Glenn before we left. Why did he stay behind anyway?

He said Dale was gonna teach him mechanics but I saw Dale’s face when Glenn said that. He had no idea about any such thing before that very moment but he still went along with it for Glenn’s sake.

I’ve got a feeling it has to do with the secret Glenn’s been keeping— which I’m astounded he hasn’t blabbed about yet. Sorry man, but you can’t lie for shit.

I’m a little peeved Dale’s in on it now, but I suppose I can’t blame him. I haven’t been around much to just talk to, and well...Dale’s pretty nosy. I don’t think there’s anyone on this Earth that old man couldn’t get the truth out of.

One of these days, I gotta teach you a little somethin’ about being subtle, Ace. Truth be told, it might be a good idea if I taught  _ everybody _ . Just in case.

It could help them get a little more in-tune and accustomed to trusting their own instincts.

How would I teach them though? I don’t even know how I do it, really. I’d like to think it’s nothing more than a light step but if that were the case, there would be a lot more people like me out there.

Daryl’s subtle but his step isn’t exactly light, most often. Stealth isn’t something you can really teach. It’s something you gotta find, and teach yourself.

It takes practice, and there isn’t a lot of room for mistakes. One mistake and you get caught.

I watched Andrea shoot yet another hole in the center of the O’s on the ‘Do Not Enter’ sign below what her target was actually supposed to be.

She hasn’t hit that metal can even once, but she hasn’t tried to either. There’s no doubt in my mind that if she were aiming for it, it’d be a bullseye.

I know Rick said “No one goes alone” but if I take a rookie out into the woods, it’ll cause more problems than it solves. Yeah, sure it’s an extra set of eyes but you only need an extra set when one isn’t enough.

My track record hasn’t been the best since the highway, I’ll be the first to admit that, and I do agree we need to stop going off on our own but... I’m not seeing a better alternative.

I don’t wanna go against Rick, and I know I’m being nit-picky about this.

I should just suck it up and ask T already.

Dammit, Daryl. Why’d you have to go and get hurt?

I don’t know how to track as well as you, and yeah I’m quieter but that’s not enough.

I need my partner.


	47. Chapter 47

“You sure you’ve never had training?” I finally asked the question that’s been burning me since I found out she took that shot with the rifle.

“Nah. None.” Andrea turned around, thumb hooked through her belt loop.

Unreal, man.

I still don’t totally believe her but facts are facts. She did graze Daryl at that range, without a spotter, or any prior knowledge of what goes into being a sniper.

I smiled, shaking my head, and stowed my piece.

You know, she looks different. Much different than the lawyer I met in Atlanta. It feels like so long ago, but it hasn’t even been a whole year yet.

With that beige stetson, deep blue jeans, those dark brown boots, and the gun in her hand, she really looks like she belongs out here; Like she grew up country. It’s a good look for her, surprisingly.

Amy would never let her live this down. Her sister the civil rights lawyer, turned cowgirl gunslinger extraordinaire.

The thought made me smile, and I glanced down the line of fine shooters we’ve wrangled up and managed to train, in just a few hours.

You’d be surprised what the right sort of motivation does to a person.

* * *

Target practice came to a close and I still haven’t been able to make a decision.

Everyone I can and have considered, has something to disqualify them. Even Shane already chose my first choice, Andrea, as his partner.

I’d be a little more peeved about that, if he wasn’t training her with moving targets before they go check out the housing development Jimmy mentioned this morning.

I blew a frustrated breath through my lips and ran a hand down my face, pulling the skin from my cheekbones down and letting it snap back as I reached my designated ride.

Lifting my knee up to my chest, I hopped into the bed of the blue truck and extended my hand to help Carl(who begged his mom to be able to), and sat with my back against the cabin alongside the kid.

At this rate, I’m either gonna have to deliberately go against what Rick said and go alone, or I’ll have to drag that very man out with me— despite him being on ‘Hold down the fort’ duty today.

The truck roared to life and rocked from side to side unevenly while it began pulling out and turning around to follow the other vehicles back the way we came.

I laced my fingers together, stretching them out and up in front of me. Tight muscles pulling until they relented to loosen gloriously, and I let them down again to relax.

The bed jostled as my arms dropped back down and a strangled grunt seized my vocal cords as my teeth clenched and my entire arm zinged up to my shoulder every half second.

A fit of laughter exploded beside me while I cradled the painfully tingling elbow and my jaw dropped, shooting a scandalized gape at the boy at my side.

How dare you laugh at my pain, you lil’ shit— 

I grabbed Carl in a headlock and started giving him the noogie I perfected in 7th grade.

He yelled, laughed, and squirmed; trying to get away but you are no match for me, child.

_ Muahahahaha _ ! You shall feel my wrath—

The truck bed bounced and my heart lurched as the ground disappeared from under us.

Before my brain could even catch up to what had happened, the back of my legs slammed back onto the bed with an audible ‘ _ smack’  _ and my hand grabbed the side of the bed faster than I knew possible; the other tightly wrapped around Carl’s shoulders to keep him from leaving my grasp.

I looked around; head on a swivel between the trees, the road behind the truck, and into the cabin over my shoulder, but as soon as I realized it as just a dip in the trail behind us, I looked at Carl.

The boy looked scared shitless— pale as a sheet and hands gripping my knee/thigh for dear life before I burst out laughing; Carl’s own following suit.

“Hey”

I looked over my left shoulder at Lori who was leaning out of the cabin window. “No more roughhousing, okay?”

I chewed my bottom lip, nodding. Not out of guilt, but trying to contain the laugh that so desperately wanted to escape.

“You’re in the back of a moving vehicle. You both could get seriously hurt if somethin’ were to happen.”

I glanced at Carl who was doing worse at hiding his giggles and was using my jacket/shoulder to smother most of it, in combination with covering his mouth and nose. He at least has the courtesy of looking a bit guilty about the whole thing but I doubt Lori would care, if he started laughing now.

“Just keep the rough-housing down, okay, Eve? I let Carl ride back there because I trust you’ll keep him safe.”

I nodded, releasing my lip, to show I am taking his safety seriously; Squeezing Carl into my side for good measure and she gave a firm nod before we hit another small bump and she ducked back inside the cabin.

I turned back to Carl with wide eyes, blowing air out my mouth slowly.

Carl snorted and I joined him  _ —quietly _ — after pulling a face and licked my dry lips.

Merlin’s funny uncle, I just got scolded like a teenager.

I haven’t felt parental wrath since I was still afraid of my 3rd grade teacher.

We did as told, fearing another beratement, and quit with the rough-housing in favor of having a thumb war— well, me pinning Carl’s thumb so many times he got frustrated and I showed him the trick to winning.

* * *

Halfway back to the farm, I banged the side of the truck and T-Dog stopped.

I gave Carl’s hair a tussle before I hopped out and leaned through Lori’s window to grab the map.

“What’s goin’ on?” T looked at me from the driver’s seat, over Patricia and Lori beside him.

Sorry, Rick. My partner’s outta commission at the moment and I can’t just sit on my hands because I don’t have a search buddy.

The best I got is this compromise of sorts, for the time being.

I can at least trek the rest of the way back from here on foot. Cover some ground whilst we’re already out here, save us some search time at the very least.

Once I get back, I’ll decide properly on a partner for tomorrow, in case Daryl’s still outta commission but I don’t know how long he’ll actually heed the doctor’s orders and stay put.

Maybe I’ll drag Glenn out— because he should be done with “mechanics” by then.

I sure hope Dale actually made him learn something.

It’s not like it won’t come in handy to have more than one or two people who know how to work on an engine.

I mean Daryl knows how to keep Merle’s bike in good condition but I’ve no idea how much he knows about normal cars. Or RV’s for that matter.

I know enough to get by, but I couldn’t build or maintain an engine from scratch, on my own.


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!
> 
> I have a Ko-Fi!  
https://ko-fi.com/miimaas
> 
> For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an amazing website that makes it super easy for you to support people who create stuff. It's basically a tipping service so you can “buy a coffee” for someone who makes stuff you like.
> 
> Tips would be much appreciated, but I'd be grateful if you simply check out and follow my profile!

The ground crunched and squished beneath my boots. Everything from grass to dirt to twigs to squishy mud and leaves going underfoot.

This place keeps tricking me into almost believing it’s peaceful.

The late afternoon sunlight streaming through the canopy, the lack of unnatural dead things. Birds chirping and forest creatures going about their business as if nothing is wrong. As if it’s just another day in the life of a forest dweller— though technically it is.

This place, looking so untouched by the outside world. I didn’t think places like this still existed; and not just because of the apocalypse.

To think at one time the world was safe enough to take a walk through the woods.

No matter how many times it dawns on me, it never quite feels ...real.

I’ve had this same revelation everywhere I go on this rock; it’s always the same, yet always different.

If I had been this philosophical in high school, maybe I actually would’ve passed my English class. God I hated that class.

I was happy that my chem lab partner set my textbook on fire, accident or not, but I still had to sit through the droning teacher repeat the same garbage for an hour.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for philosophy. It’s an interesting topic, but that man— Good lord. He told us a thousand different quotes which basically all said the same thing. Every. Day.

I don’t know what I expected from English class, but it sure wasn’t that. I’m not even sure that stuff was in the curriculum.

I half stepped on a rock and my heart leaped into my throat as my ankle rolled and I stumbled sideways; my forehead nearly colliding with a tree trunk.

My hands shot out and saved me from hitting my face, but I felt my sternum painfully impact with the rough bark and I immediately pushed away from the tree, hissing and clutching my aching bone.

I glanced down as if I’d be able to see the damage and caught red on my hand instead.

Great, and I thought these scabs would be gone soon. What is it with me and trees?!

It’s like they’ve declared me their mortal enemy.

A throaty gurgle drew my eyes to my left, and I froze, every muscle in my body tensing at the sight of 2 walkers stumbling my way side by side.

Without thinking, I ducked farther than I’d already been and pulled a knife from my thigh as I moved around the other side of the tree as fast as I could without making any noise. 

I glanced over my shoulder, towards the farm.

I don’t think they saw me and there’s not a lot of wind, so they probably can’t smell me either.

I can’t just let them stumble onto the property though.

I looked back at the walkers, pulling my other knife and flipping the two around to make the blades parallel with my forearms, edge facing out.

I watched them shuffle closer and carefully moved one quiet step at a time around the tree as they passed, and the tree had kept me hidden until I was behind them.

With a quick inhale, I came up behind the closest and stabbed it straight through the base of the skull. Quick and clean.

It dropped in a heap of deadweight, and just as the other began to turn, I spun my other knife around in my hand and drove the point through its temple with a gross ‘ _ squish _ ’ all the way to the hilt.

I put my foot on the walker’s chest and pulled my blade with a bloody slick, as it fell back.

Ew, this blood looks like melted gummy worms.

My face scrunched in disgust as the smell hit me and I struggled not to cough.

I almost forgot what they smell like up close, being out here with all the fresher air.

My throat constricted with my not breathing and I went straight into a jog away from the bodies until I was well on my way back towards the fence; which is almost in sight.

I went to slide my knives back into their holsters but stopped, watching a glob of congealed people juice drop off the edges.

I tried, I really did try not to draw parallels between it and a woman’s period but being a woman myself, I’m all too familiar with that unfortunate monthly event.

I sighed and took a rushed deep breath, returning my eyes forward and decided to just carry the deadly little objects in my hands for once.

Oh yeah, searching back through the woods was a great idea.

I’m gonna… keep this to myself. No need to worry anybody when nothing actually happened. And it’s not like two walkers is a herd and we need to sound the alarm and get everyone to safety.

Besides, Rick’s got enough on his mind these days.

I’ll leave our “room & board” bartering to him and just… try not to give him any extra concerns —even take a few off his plate where I can.

I reached the edge of the Greene’s land, and the metal of blades clanked against the old dark wooden fence as I hopped it. This battered fence and I are getting to know one another all too well.

How many times does this make it? How many times have I come back with  _ nothing _ to show for my efforts? Aside from there are two less walkers in the world. That makes just over 8 billion to go.

At least Daryl finds shit when he goes out. He found that farm house, he found her doll even though he got hurt doing it. Hell he even found  _ me, _ when all my dumb ass has found is a sinkhole and a whole lot a jack shit.

I’ve been out here every day. I must’ve covered miles of this forest by now.

How can I keep coming back here and letting Carol know her daughter’s still alone in the woods?

She could be hurt, dehydrated, starving, exhausted, sick— she could be  _ dead _ .

All because we’re a sorry bunch of useless half-assing “adults” stumbling over everything in our paths, pretending we know what we’re doing. As if that’ll magically make everything better.

Surviving is arduous enough, but searching for a little girl in a forest of corpses and untold dangers, is like searching for a firefly at the bottom of the ocean. Hoping beyond hope it’s somehow still glowing.

The dim lights of the house drew closer as I moved on, but the glow of the campfire only came into view as I got a little over halfway through the grassy field between the house and the treeline. And that’s where I collapsed. Collapsed on the long damp grass, rolling onto my back with a ragged breath.

Staring up at the sky with half-lidded eyes, stars brimmed brilliantly out here in the countryside but for the first time in my life, they’re doing nothing to lift my mood.

I’ve started to feel like we’re always swimming against the tide. Everything we do is countered by nature, chance, even luck seems to have abandoned us for better days.

Humanity’s been forsaken, and I honestly can’t say we don’t deserve it.

I’ve been asking myself a lot of things lately. Since when did I start to doubt myself? When did I start to lose my head —whether I’m alone or not— when things aren’t going my way?

Things have never gone my way— why did I start expecting them to?

Have my senses dulled so much in such little time? When did I become lax and so unaware of my surroundings that a couple a walkers can trudge right across my path and I don’t know about it ‘till it’s right in front of my eyes?

I can’t be like this; Being caught off guard is why Sophia ran. Why Daryl was nearly killed —twice; the first arguably being his own fault, the second being Andrea’s— and partially the group’s for getting too comfortable.

Why I’ve found nothing but near death experiences for the last 3 days. Why I have failed to notice the blatantly obvious, and become unaware of my surroundings. Why there are people in the group suddenly keeping secrets and I have  _ no clue _ as to why, or even shots in the dark as to  _ what  _ they could be about.

I spend half my time in the dark about what’s going on around me, despite being right in the center of it. So caught up in my own thoughts. Have I really become so blind?

I’ve dismissed and been outright angry about what everyone’s been doing while I’ve been out there, but they’ve hardly been idle.

Half of ‘em go out every day, just like I do.

Rationally, I know we can’t spare the manpower to search the forest grid by grid for a moving target and leave our camp, the farm, and all of our supplies— our lifelines unprotected. But part of me is still fixed on the notion they’ve been sitting on their hands, while I —and a few others— work our butts off to find that little girl.

People have gotten hurt putting their lives on the line again and again, same as I have. Pushing against all odds, hoping to gods we’re not even sure exist anymore that she’s okay and we’ll find her.

I can’t speak for what they’ve been doing in their down time, but  _ that’s  _ the problem.

I’ve been blaming them —subconsciously or not— for being lazy when I know next to nothing about what they’ve actually been doing. For all I know, they’ve been doing exactly the same thing as I have.

Exhausted beyond measure, chipping away at everything they’ve got just to keep searching and trying to keep worry at bay; spending every waking second with the sole focus of replenishing enough strength to get back out there.

I have no right to blame them— blame anyone.  _ It’s no one’s fault _ but I keep acting like it is. Like there’s someone to blame for everything that’s happened.

Letting my own frustration determine my actions, my thoughts.

I blinked up at the clear cold deep blue sky, growing darker with every passing minute.

No more blame, no whining, no more aimless wandering, no more retreating into my mind out of boredom or anything else, no more dismissal of  _ anything _ . I have to figure out what’s going on, to figure out where I need to go.

I’m putting a stop to this.

For my sake, if no one else’s.


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!
> 
> I have a Ko-Fi!  
https://ko-fi.com/miimaas
> 
> For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an amazing website that makes it super easy for you to support people who create stuff. It's basically a tipping service so you can “buy a coffee” for someone who makes stuff you like.
> 
> Tips would be much appreciated, but I'd be grateful if you simply check out and follow my profile!

“Hey,”

I blinked my eyes open and stared up at Glenn standing over me.

“I thought I saw you over here. Can I sit?”

I nodded, narrowing my eyes slightly. He’s never asked before— he shouldn’t even feel the need to. What’s going on?

He planted himself next to me and I sat up, giving the most prompting look I could muster.

He avoided my gaze before sighing, running a hand over his face.

“What would you do if you knew something —that someone else doesn’t want anyone to know— but another someone wants  _ everyone _ to know? And this is something you know everyone should know— but you don’t wanna betray the person who doesn’t want everyone to know.”

Wow. That wasn’t convoluted at all.

If I had to guess the expression I’m making, it’s nothing short of unreadable.

But to answer that question...? It would entirely depend on what this something is.

If it’s personal and not my decision to make, I wouldn’t get involved. If it’s gonna start drama, I wouldn’t say anything. If it was confided in me, I wouldn’t intervene unless I had to. If it’s not my place to say anything, I wouldn’t.

_ However _ , if it’s harmful to themselves, another person, or to me, there’s a solid chance I would take action. If someone’s life was at stake because of this secret, I couldn’t just sit by.

I might not  _ say anything _ about it, but I would definitely do something— not without thinking it through.

But I get the feeling there’s more to this than that.

If it were a simple decision between keeping a secret and blabbing, I don’t think he’d have need of my consultation. So what could be tearing him up enough he needs help?

I blinked, shifted, licked my lips, and peered at him until he grew uncomfortable enough to cut the bullshit.

You’re so easy to read, Ace. You should’ve known I wouldn’t buy that earful.

A sighed groan rushed from Glenn’s mouth as he tucked his head between his knees and laced his fingers behind his noggin; Not even caring his cap was about to take a dive for the grass.

“I don’t know what to do.”

Gasp, if I’d had a million guesses, I never would've gotten that.

He looks like he’s depressed. Oh  _ Hell  _ no, that’s not gonna fly.

Both of us cannot be feeling like underwater wind chimes. Not today. You’re supposed to be the optimistic skittle-spitter here.

I whacked his knee with mine and slung my arm across his shoulders, attempting to lighten the mood, if only a little.

Taking a sharp breath, Glenn locked eyes with me.

“Don— Don’t freak out and don’t tell anybody —not that you would do either— but, uh...”

He swallowed, adjusting his cap nervously.

“Out with it, Ace. What’s eating you?”

“Lori’s pregnant, and the barn is full of walkers.”

…...

I glanced between the barn, and over my shoulder to the camp at our backs where everyone was by the fire, presumably having dinner.

I turned back to the barn, and looked at Glenn.

“... _ Oh fu— _ ”

* * *

I sat in a camping chair in front of the campfire, looking at everyone and trying to anticipate how they’re going to react to this. All I can say right now is...this is not gonna go over well.

Glenn and I agreed not to tell them tonight, for a number of reasons, including it’ll go  _ better _ if they’ve all had some sleep. But tomorrow morning, this camp is gonna turn into a kicked wasp’s nest.

Daryl glanced at me for the 12th time in the last ten minutes. I think he knows something’s up.

If I give him the chance to press— he’ll get what he wants. He’s like Merle that way.

Must run in the family.

I just hope he doesn’t zero in on Glenn, because he will not be able to keep his mouth shut against Daryl. He’ll spill like a floodgate.

Shifting, I cracked my neck, and caught something out of the corner of my eye.

Elbowing Glenn, I pointed and he reached over, grabbing it for me.

_ It’s been a long time since I had one of these in my hands. _

I rested the sleek wood on my thigh. I plucked each string sequentially and cringed. The iron strings feel good under my fingers but that sound.

Egh, this guitar is in desperate need of tuning.

It’s been a long time since I’ve had to tune a guitar by ear. Let’s see how rusty I am, shall we?

I spent 5 minutes tuning it to the best of my ability, before stretching my fingers, and popping my knuckles.

Hmm, what do I remember how to play?

Enter sandman— but that only really sounds right with an electric guitar.

That takes Metallica out...and, most everything I remember how to play. Well, I know what I’m looking for next time there’s a run.

_ Come on, I’ve gotta know something that’ll sound good acoustically... _

Ooo— maybe Metallica isn’t out.

Positioning my fingers, I gave the strings one last strum to make sure they resonated well.

My finger calluses are almost completely gone. Who knew that could happen in only a few months— well technically it’s been several months.

Starting slowly, I eased into Nothing Else Matters. The very first Metallica song I mastered. I practiced everyday for months to learn this.

My fingers danced over the fret-board as if I’d never stopped playing. Everything coming back as I went; like remembering the next verse in a song right before you’re supposed to sing it.

I’ve missed this.

Moving my hands like this has never felt so good before. Or maybe it always felt like this but every time feels like the first time.

That rush you get caught up in as you play. You can’t help but move with it.

Nothing else around you exists when these strings vibrate.

It’s a good thing I’m a solid finger-picker. Arguably I’m better at finger-picking than with an actual guitar pick. It feels so much more natural to use my fingers instead of a piece a plastic. But lord do I miss my thumb pick right now.

I almost forgot how chaffing the strings are without calluses.

I glanced up when something shifted at the top of my downcast vision.

It was Carl sitting on the ground in front of me; between me and the fire, watching my hands with.

Finishing off the final portion, I looked up to find everyone paying closer attention than I’d anticipated.

“You, my dear” Dale smiled at me, taking a seat on the other side of Glenn. “Are full of surprises.”

“Can you play another?” Carl looked up at me with a childish wonder I feared he didn’t have anymore.

I glanced at Rick and Lori, on the other side of the fire, smiling. Everyone’s smiling for once.

My lip quirked up as I licked them and I leaned over to ruffle his hair before shaking out my wrist and re-positioning my fingers.

What kind of song would a kid like Carl wanna hear?

He doesn’t strike me as a hip hop sorta kid —not that I could play that in the first place— but he probably won’t be as interested in most of what I know.

Wait, why does it matter? It’s not like he’s gonna know what it is anyway. Unless…

I couldn’t help the devious little smirk as I started again. No one will likely recognize this song straight away, but just a few seconds in, when I hit  _ those _ notes, I saw the recognition on every single face here.

You can’t go wrong with Pirates of the Caribbean.

As time went on, I played progressively slower, calmer songs; almost putting everyone to sleep in their chairs but it wasn’t until Carl actually fell asleep that I stopped and most everyone meandered back to their tents to actually sleep.

I went to hand Glenn his guitar back and he waved his hand.

“Keep it. No one else knows how to play— except you apparently.”

I nodded in thanks, and gave him a pat on the shoulder as we separated to head to our own tents. I waved goodnight to my “neighbors” as we all slipped inside our own abodes for the night.

Zipping up the door, I carefully put my guitar to rest and went through the motions of taking my gear off, setting it all in a pile right next to where I sleep.

I should see if I can find a case for it, soon. I mean I could probably go find a guitar in just about any music store now, but I’d rather avoid going into a place covered in things that make loud noises if I can help it. As much as I like to play, it’s actually dangerous.

Dropping to my hands and knees and feeling my way to my sleeping bag, I moved around until I found my backpack and dug through it, finding my small LED flashlight.

I clicked the tiny light on and found my spare clothes, changing before laying down.

I sighed, staring at the ruffling roof of my tent. The slightest breeze makes the flimsy material move.

A chill ran up my spine and I shimmied deeper into my sleeping bag.


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!
> 
> I have a Ko-Fi!  
https://ko-fi.com/miimaas
> 
> For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an amazing website that makes it super easy for you to support people who create stuff. It's basically a tipping service so you can “buy a coffee” for someone who makes stuff you like.
> 
> Tips would be much appreciated, but I'd be grateful if you simply check out and follow my profile!

I shot up, struggling to force air into my chest. My fists shook with my sleeping bag in a death grip.

Those eyes flashed through my head and the ache in my shoulder jumped to the foreground, but the face kept coming back to me. It wasn’t  _ his _ face but those were his eyes.

I desperately thrashed in the sleeping bag, doing everything in my power to get out as fast as humanly possible.

I kicked the fabric from feet and in a blur of blind panic, I grabbed my backpack and was outside before I knew it.

My foot caught on the lip of my tent and I had half a second of realization when my stomach soared and my hands shot out to catch me without even thinking.

I went sprawling onto the ground. My cheek smashing against the well trodden dirt and my neck whip-lashed in an already failed effort to save my face.

My chin was parallel to the ground as I furiously blinked, whipping around to look at everything that moved in the slightest. my hands began to sting but it was a dull sensation against the frantic sweeping of my surroundings, the sting blooming in my cheek, and the ache in my ribs.

My heart hammered painfully against the inside of my chest. The sound filling my ears so completely I couldn’t even hear my own rapid breaths shaking my chest.

It took me several seconds to fully grasp where I was, and I only did so when I flipped over and my eyes landed on a familiar crossbow leaning against a tree, in the tent beside mine.

I swallowed hard and licked my lips, trying to bring moisture back to my parched mouth as I pushed myself up. I pulled my legs in, resting my elbows over my knees.

Part of my brain recognized the angry red of my hands, and the few specks of blood rising from torn scabs, but I couldn’t bring my focus to it; not while I tried to force a deep breath and stop picturing a red glow, a face I’ll see tomorrow with eyes that should be long gone, and flesh-tearing teeth.

Three things that should never have coincided wrapped up in one godforsaken nightmare.

He’s gone. He will never get to me, but I can’t stop seeing it.

Ever since the CDC, and I saw Shane…

I fumbled shakily for the water bottle I keep in my backpack, and struggled with the cap before I finally got it off and down half the bottle.

I haven’t— they haven’t gone away. He hides it well, but they’re still there. I feel like I’m living with ghosts. I can still see his eyes when I look at Shane sometimes.  I hear his words when someone speaks, even if their voices are different.

I found my eye being drawn to the barn. In the dark it’s nothing more than a dark outline against the star-scattered midnight blue sky.

My head lulled back and I stared up. The dark treetops outlined against the atmosphere. I harshly rubbed my eyes with the back of my wrist and drew in as long breath as I could, no matter how shaky.

Looking back to my hands, I stared for a long moment before screwing the lid back on the bottle. It took me a few tries but I managed and stuffed it back inside the grey-black bag.

I rubbed my arm, finally noticing how cold it was, but I didn’t grip my wrist because it’s chilly.

I took another drawn breath; shutting my eyes as I bit my lips to keep my teeth from chattering.

I finally looked at the tents surrounding the campsite, and made a mental list of who was where.

My eyes moved to the top of the RV. No one’s on watch tonight.

Why would there be? I mean, it’s not like there’s a barn full of walkers on the premises.

I cast my gaze towards the dark mass again, before finally crawling off my dirt covered butt, and went back inside my tent.

I sat in the corner, on my sleeping bag but couldn’t bring myself to crawl inside it.

The near non-existent moonlight glinted off my gear in the corner beside me and I reached over without even thinking about it, and grabbed one of the knives.

I gripped the handle in my fist, smearing little drops of blood over the previously clean grip.

My tired, anxious gaze fixed on the doorway and I absently began tracing my fingers over the sharp steel blade.

* * *

I don’t know how long I’ve been awake. My eyelids are heavy but they keep finding reasons to stay open.

I don’t know when I laid down, using my backpack as a pillow instead of my actual pillow.

I don’t know for how long I was able to close my eyes for each time I startled awake again, but the cold steel in my hand has been warm for some time now.

The light has slowly grown orange and fiery, with the rising sun; Fading into a yellowish white the higher it gets.

I stared at my cold sock-clad feet. The growing light revealing the deep blue color, and the black music notes finally became visible on them just a short while ago.

I know it’s dawn, or past dawn, but all I could muster the energy to do was lay here, staring at the fabric door I’d left open all night.

I never did crawl back into my sleeping bag, but I’ve been using it as a blanket to stave off the cold. The cold which has been working with paranoia to keep sleep out of my grasp, all night.

When my toes finally started to warm up in the sunlight, it was like the off switch. The rising heat, and the white noise of gentle wind just...

* * *

The smell of food wafted into my tent like a wake-up call from heaven, but unlike every other day, it wasn’t what got me outta bed.

I don’t know how much sleep I actually got, but I can feel it in my limbs and in my eyes.

Every rustle, every slight sound brought me back to wakefulness, all night.

The wind brushing my tent had me shooting up knife first, every time I managed to fall asleep. Right up until the sun of all things let me sleep for however long I managed.

I dragged my hands over my face, kneading my stiff eyes with my fingers.

I can’t be slow today. If I’m off my game I’ll end up either coming back sooner, dying, or getting lost myself. Heaven forbid I fall asleep out there.

I don’t feel as sleepy as I should. I know I don’t, but I don’t think I could sleep right now even if I tried.

I shouldn’t have fooled myself into thinking this place was safe.

Nowhere is safe— there’s no such thing as safe, never has been. Only  _ safer _ .

My hands were sluggish in lacing up my boots, more so after I finished. I just sat there, staring at the guitar propped up next to me.

I wanna believe Sophia could survive out there on her own. It’s possible but, she’s not me; Or Daryl, or Rick, she’s just a kid. Being a kid is hard enough already without all this crap, but being on your own?

Absentmindedly reaching over, I plucked the strings in slow succession.

That lil’ girl is tougher than she looks but she’s not—...she’s not the kind of tough you need to be, to make it on your own.

“Ey”

I jolted straight into a kill-move; Knife brought up next to my ear.

“Whoa” Daryl stuck his hand out, reflexively. For a second he almost looked like Rick.

A tense breath released my lungs, and I sheathed my blade, waving my hand in a halfhearted apology.

“You look like shit.”

Gee thanks. I rubbed my forehead just over my eye.

“Did ya get any sleep last night?”

I couldn’t answer that if I wanted to. I let another heavy sigh out; those are quite popular with me today.

I need to wake up.

Just cause I had a nightmare and spent the night just sitting in the frigid night air wafting through my tent, doesn’t give me a pass to be outta control.

The barn is full of walkers, and Sophia’s still missing. I don’t have time to be tired.

I took a deep controlled breath, stifling a yawn and stood up. Locking eyes with Daryl, I gave a solid nod.

He watched me grab my gun and tuck it into my waistband, that unconvinced look on his face, while I outfitted the rest of my gear.

When I had everything, I turned, ready to join everyone outside for breakfast but stopped because Daryl was still staring— scowling at me, with no sign of moving.

I sighed, giving a —not entirely convincing— smile.

It did nothing. He continued to stand there, raising one eyebrow.

Well, now I know what it’s like to be on the other side of that ‘cut the bullshit’ move.

“I’m fine.” I pulled on the hair tie around my wrist and put it between my lips while I started gathering my mass of hair.

I combed my hair back with my fingers and pulled the hair tie round and round until it was secured. “Just a nightmare”

Daryl pursed his lips, giving an almost unnoticeable nod and finally moved to let me out of my tent.

I followed him out, to the campfire where Carol was cooking breakfast, while I tried and failed to suppress another yawn.

Not everyone is up yet but as soon as Carol starts cooking, people tend to start getting up. I do at least.

I smiled when she looked over, and nodded in response to her muttered, “Morning”

I sat in the same camping chair I did last night, next to Daryl. It’s almost becoming my dedicated seat, though I don’t occupy it often.

I zoned in & out all morning as people got up, even as I ate my food. My head swirling with things I didn’t even think to be concerned about before now. But I had a lot of time to think last night, as evident by the bags I can  _ feel _ under my fatigued eyes.

I don’t know whether I’m being paranoid or hyper aware, or if any of this crap has any relevance, but I’m starting to give myself a headache.

I was a fool to think I was long past all this— to think I’d ever be.


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I'd love to hear them!
> 
> I have a Ko-Fi! If you like what you read, please hop over and "buy me a coffee" lol  
https://ko-fi.com/miimaas
> 
> For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an amazing website that makes it super easy for you to support people who create stuff. It's basically a tipping service so you can “buy a coffee” for someone who makes stuff you like.
> 
> Tips would be much appreciated, but I'd be grateful if you simply check out and follow my profile!

I couldn’t stop thinking, right up until I saw Glenn look towards the house. I glanced as I shoveled the last of my eggs into my mouth, and found Maggie on the porch, looking this way with her arms crossed.

I watched her shake her head; The gesture visible even at this distance.

Glenn looked to his other side where Dale stood. The old man nodded, like a parent encouraging their kid to apologize.

I’m assuming the four of us having this awkward mental debate are the only ones aware of the barn at this moment. Glenn swallowed, looking at his own hands before finally looking to me.

I sighed, looking at him with sympathy. Agh, I’m sorry you always wind up stuck in the middle, Ace.

When we met, I really hoped I wouldn’t be one of the people who put you in a tough place… but it’s time to face the music.

Looking back at his hands, he found his conviction and stood; Going from the side of the group to a place directly across from me, where the entire group would be able to see him.

“U-ummm, guys.” Glenn rubbed the side of his face, while the others looked at him.

“So...” Glenn glanced at me and I gave a subtle nod to reassure his decision.

“The barn is full of walkers.”

I’ve never seen a more synchronized movement in my life.

Everything stopped; Conversation, eating,  _ breathing,  _ and all eyes fixed on Glenn.

I watched Rick turn slowly, the movement ominous and foreign to his everyday. Even from behind him, I can tell exactly where his eyes are.

It was the stillest moment in history. The next second, everyone was on their feet, heading straight for the barn in a frenzied panic.

I followed Daryl and as I came up beside Glenn, I clapped him on the shoulder.

I don’t know if this was the right course of action, but it’s better than doing nothing. We can’t leave it there forever, and it’s better if we deal with this as a group.

* * *

I watched Shane inch up next to the old chained barn doors and peer between gaps in the faded graying panels.

He didn’t have to, you can hear the shuffling, growls, and moans right here 20 feet from it, but apparently seeing is believing for him. Even if it gets your eye poked out by a walker finger.

Would that infect you? I mean we don’t know how  _ exactly _ it spreads, all we know is bites and scratches do the trick, but would that count as a scratch? Would it have to break into the bloodstream to infect you?

Shane backed away and turned with a huff, coming back towards us with a powerful stride.

“You cannot tell me you’re alright with this.” he moved past Rick

“No I’m not, but we’re guests here. This isn’t our land.”

No offense Rick, but this is a little more important than being good house guests.

“God, _ this is our lives! Man _ ” Shane pulled off his hat, arms swinging down in exacerbation.

“Lower your voice.” Glenn warned, shooting a nervous glance at the barn doors.

“We can’t just sweep this under the rug” Andrea interjected.

I hate to say it, but I agree with Andrea and Shane on this one. Even if it means upsetting our hosts, this isn’t something we should ignore.

“It ain’t right. Not remote” T-Dog spoke up

“We either gotta go in there, we’ve gotta make things right, or we just gotta go. Now we’ve been talkin’ about Fort Benning for a long time—”

“ _ We can’t. go _ .” Rick cut Shane off

“Why, Rick? Why?” Shane argued, fed up with this shit; frankly we all are, to be honest.

“Cause my daughter’s still out there.” Carol stepped up.

I watched Rick glance at Carol over his shoulder but there’s something off about his expression. What was that? Guilt? For what?

“Okay, okay” Shane covered his mouth & nose with his hands. “Okay, I think it’s time we all just  _ consider  _ the other possibility.”

“Shane. We’re not leavin’ Sophia behind” Rick put his foot down.

“I’m close to findin’ this girl. I just found her damn doll a few days ago.” Daryl moved beside me, in front of Carol and started pacing.

“You found her  _ doll _ , Daryl. That’s what you did— you found a  _ doll _ .” Shane stressed, leaving a moment of silence to fall.

Oh shite, this is gonna get ugly.

“You don’t know what the Hell you’re talkin’ about!” Daryl swung his arm at Shane, moving forward but I jumped in front of him, cutting off his clear path to start a fight.

“Hey man I’m just sayin’ what needs to be said here. Now you get a good lead, it’s in the first 48 hours.” Shane kicked off.

Please, don’t take that bait Daryl.

Rick put his arm out in front of Shane, trying to detour the fight from getting physical but God— I think it’s inevitable.

Daryl & I may be partners but I can’t stop these two by myself without threatening their lives.

That may have worked on Merle but Merle was just an asshole, he wasn’t stupid, I seriously doubt the same tricks will work on these two.

I put my hands on Daryl’s arms, blocking him from getting any closer as he paced back & forth like a shark circling in the water but he didn’t even glance at me; itching to get at Shane.

He could go at any second. His jaw is clenched so tight I can see the muscles on his neck straining.

“Shane” Rick put himself at my back, between Shane and Daryl, trying to stop this. “Shane, Shane stop.” 

The backup is much appreciated, Officer. If he can get his partner to back off, I can try to get mine to walk away. He’ll still be steaming for a while, but I can keep him at a distance till he cools down.

“Let me tell you something else, man. If she was alive out there and saw you comin,”

_ If?  _ I looked over my shoulder at Shane, running his mouth. 

“All methed out with your buck knife— geek ears around your neck,  _ she would run in the other direction,  _ man!”

My effort in keeping Daryl back dropped with my jaw.

The skin under my fingers disappeared and Daryl all but launched around me.

He went for Shane like a tiger for a piece of meat on a string and I was gonna let him, but Rick got between them and I jumped in front of Daryl again, pushing him back; for Rick’s safety.

Hell at this point, if I had a clear shot, I’d knock Shane’s ass out myself. If he’s lucky.

Rick and Glenn both at my back, worked to push Shane back. I can handle Daryl on my own, but there’s so much shouting I can barely hear my own thoughts.

I finally got Dixon to look at me, by pushing  _ hard _ on his stomach, almost hard enough to push him back, and as soon as his blue irises locked on me, I gave him a warning look.

He ground his teeth a moment, no doubt seconds from snarling at me but surprised me a little by reigning in his temper enough to stop trying to get past me.

It’s not a fight he’d win. His brother learned that the hard way, but I didn’t think Daryl had learned just from watching & scoffing on the sidelines that day.

There was a lot of pushing but all the shouting came to an abrupt stop when Rick forcefully pushed Shane back, shouting, “ _ Back off! _ ”

“Keep your hands off me.” Shane warned Lori in front of him, before he started to storm off.

“Now just let me talk to Hershel.” Rick called. “Let me figure it out”

_ Ah Hell, Rick. _

“Man,  _ what are you gonna figure out!? _ ” Shane went as if he was gonna go after Rick.

I jolted, ready to do a lot more than grab or push him back, but Lori beat me to it, getting in between them.

“Enough!” Lori snapped at Shane, pushing her hand against his chest; keeping him from getting any farther.

I thought this would end here, but it  _ will  _ end one way or another.

I felt a presence behind me just before Daryl came into my vision, tapping my elbow.

I glanced down and slowly released my knife, letting it slide back into the sheath.

“If we’re gonna stay, if we’re gonna clear this barn. I have to talk him into it.  _ This is his land _ .” Rick gestured widely to both the barn and the fields around us.

“ _ Herschel _ sees those things in there as people.” Dale interrupted. “Sick people.”

“His wife, his— his— his— his stepson” Dale stammered, gesturing to the barn just as wildly as Rick had.

“ _ You knew _ ?” Rick looked at him with an accusing gaze of disbelief, I didn’t even know he was capable of.

“Yesterday. I talked to Hershel.” Dale confirmed without missing a beat.

“And you waited the night?” Shane irked. As if he didn’t have enough arguing material already.

An ache bloomed in my jaw and I forced myself to unclench my teeth but every muscle in my body is rigid and tense. Ready to react to  _ whatever _ happens.

“I thought we could survive one more night.  _ We did _ .” Dale stated, 100% done with Shane’s hissy fit.

If anyone can shut down an argument, it’s Dale. The man has a gift.

“I was waiting until this morning to say something but Glenn wanted to be the one.” Dale motioned to Glenn and he nervously glanced at me. I’m guessing he never told Dale, that he told me about this last night.

I gave Glenn an affirming nod, hopefully conveying he did the right thing.

None of this is his fault. This was gonna happen no matter who or how they found out.

I watched Daryl put his hands on his hips, looking at the barn with a fierce scowl, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

He’s still pissed but it’s a step down from the livid state he was at a moment ago.

He’ll cool down so long as no one exacerbates this argument,  _ again _ . Uh-huh, I’m lookin’ at you, Rick.

“The man is crazy, Rick, if Hershel thinks  _ those things _ are alive  _ or no—! _ ” Shane shouted and the barn doors banged, pushing against the numerous locks on the door.

I jumped, pulling my knives before the signal fully reached my brain.

The chains on the doors strained and rattled.

Growling erupted from the inside and grew louder with every thud and scratching of rotting broken fingernails on faded wearing wood.

My jacket was tugged from behind and I glanced over my shoulder to find everyone retreating, Daryl right behind me moving back himself.

I walked backwards, knives still up until I was a good distance from the doors and turned to follow the quick pace of the entire group as we all headed back to camp.

Many eyes still looking over their shoulders every few seconds.


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> I have a Ko-Fi! If you like what you read, please hop over and “buy me a coffee” lol  
https://ko-fi.com/miimaas
> 
> For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an amazing website that makes it super easy for you to support people who create stuff. It's basically a tipping service so you can “buy a coffee” for someone who makes stuff you like.
> 
> Tips would be much appreciated, but I'd be grateful if you just check out my profile, drop a comment and say hi!

Frickin’ biscuit tins...

I trudged through the grassy field all by my lonesome, running a hand over my forehead, pulling the stray strands back.

What the Hell are we supposed to do about this? We can’t just leave it be.

If it wasn’t made of pliable —breakable— wood, I might’ve considered leaving it alone for now, in favor of a more diplomatic solution, but this… There’s no way the others — _ officer hothead—  _ is gonna let this slide.

We never would’a stuck around this long if we’d known that was here.

Hell if Shane had his way, we’d have run for the hills or burned the damn thing to the ground. It’s not like that’s a plausible option, though.

I mean for one, Hershel might actually shoot someone for that— not that I would blame him, if what Dale said about his beliefs and his family being in there is true.

For another thing, burning it down would not only be a huge risk with all the smoke, noise, and ash it would send into the air, but it has the potential of burning down the entire property. Then where would we be?

I sighed, kicking at a half buried rock. I stopped, resting my hands on my hips.

We didn’t even know it was there until now, so obviously it isn’t an immediate threat, but it isn’t a cozy thought having a herd of walkers —idle or not— this close.

I admit, it would be a bit of a different story if we were living in a structure— a building, and not thin fabric tents but there’s no telling how this is gonna go down.

I glanced up, blowing air outta my mouth and caught sight of Daryl headed into the stable.

What’s he doing? I thought he was still supposed to be recovering, did Hershel clear him already?

Heading towards the stable, I reached the entrance and looked in each of the stalls as I walked down the center.

Daryl come out of a little side room just ahead of me, lugging a saddle.

He dropped it on a metal stand and flinched, grunting as he held his side.

I jolted forward, stopping the stand from tipping over; instead of trying to grab him like I almost did. He’s not usually one for touch, or accepting direct help as I’ve learned.

“You can’t” I looked over as Carol hurried up to us from the open entrance.

How long has she been there?

“I’m fine.” Daryl growled in annoyance.

Are you? Lift your arms above your head, and I’ll believe you.

He stalked towards the bridle hung on the wall behind him, and I could’a sworn I saw him roll his eyes.

“Hershel said you need to heal.” Carol argued, motherly concern lacing every aspect of her voice.

“Yeah, I don’t care.” He turned his back to us, opening the stall door to a chestnut horse.

I resisted the urge to groan. Figures as much. I knew it was too soon for him to be okayed to head out.

“Well, I do.” Carol moved forward to see into the stall.

That makes two of us. As much as I would like to have him back out there, I’d rather he doesn’t die trying. Trying to physically stop him from doing _anything_ has yet to work.

“Rick’s going out later to follow the trail, and Eve’s going out too.”

I nodded, giving a firm grunt so Daryl didn’t need to look for confirmation while he situates the bridle.

“Yeah well, I ain’t gonna sit around and do nothin’.”

“No, you’re gonna go out there and get yourself hurt even worse.” Carol crossed her arms.

Daryl didn’t respond, but he didn’t stop, so obviously this is gonna take more convincing.

“We don’t know if we’re gonna find her, Daryl.”

My breath caught in my chest. Daryl turning only vaguely registered, while I stared at her.

My mouth started to dry out with my lips parted as they are, but all I could do was stare.

“We don’t.” Carol glanced at me.

Her eyes glistened, as her fluttery gaze moved between us.

“I don’t.” Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper, almost so quiet the non-existent wind was drowning her out.

I don’t know how long we just stood there, in silence, until Daryl slowly stalked up to her; the movement almost predatory.

“What?” Daryl’s voice wasn’t half what I saw coming.

There was no malice, aggression, or even confusion. It was flat; stale. The farthest thing from what I know him to be.

Carol shifted, almost like she’d been backed into a corner. “I can’t lose you too”

If it wasn’t before, my jaw is slack now; staring at the mother of the child, we’ve bled trying to find.

I barely noticed Daryl drop whatever was in his hand, and move towards the saddle I stood next to.

Daryl and I must have mirrored expressions because tears dropped from Carol’s eyelashes; her lip quivering as she glanced between us.

I shook my head. There’s no way in Hell I’m giving on Sophia, but I didn’t know you— her mother, already has.

I jerked back as Daryl grabbed the saddle and chucked it as hard as he could off the stand.

The heavy saddle didn’t go far but it was still enough to make Daryl double over.

I took a half step towards him without thinking, but he shot me a glare and I took the hint; staying just close enough I can act, if need be.

“Are you alright?” Carol rushed forward but Daryl staggered away from her.

“Just leave me be!” Daryl’s arm swung out as he stumbled even further and I moved as he finally regained his balance.

“Stupid bitch” Daryl grumbled as he passed by me.

My eyebrows shot to my hairline, and I felt my jaw actually pop from how fast it dropped.

I stared at his back as he disappeared outside. He sounded like  _ Merle _ .

Coming from his brother I wouldn’t have bat an eye, but from you, Daryl…

I thought you understood.

I glanced back to Carol and the look of hurt on her face, broke my heart. She looks like she’s just been told her daughter’s  _ dead. _

My hand moved on its own to touch her shoulder.

It’s more hesitant and careful than it probably should be, but she didn’t shake me off, so at the very least it must not be the  _ wrong  _ thing to do.

I’m not used to or particularly good at comforting, I’ve always seen it as a band-aid solution; but I am good at something else.

He may have as much right as I do, to be angry right now, but  _ that _ is  _ not okay _ .

My jaw set, I  _ felt  _ my eyes harden, and was moving before I even told my legs to. The moment I got outside, I spotted him in the field. My boots hit the ground in heavy succession for once in my life, and I don’t care if he hears me coming or not— I hope he does.

“ _ Hey _ ”

Daryl turned and my palm collided with his cheek.

He staggered back, eyes fixed on me, stunned. His cheek already burning an angry red, but not even half a second passed before he directed his full Dixon-inherited fury at me.

“ _ The Hell do you think ur— _ !”

“I would’ve expected this behavior from Merle, but  _ never from you, Daryl. _ ”

“ _ You— _ ” Daryl stepped towards me.

“I thought you were better than this.”

Stopping mid-step, he glared me down like only he can.

“You have every right to be frustrated and upset, but you  _ do not _ get to take this out on her.” I snapped through clenched teeth.

Daryl’s mouth opened but I cut him off before he could make so much as a sound.

“ _ Shit happens.  _ This isn’t Carol’s fault, and she didn’t choose to lose her daughter. You wanna be pissed off, go right ahead. But you need to ask yourself,  _ what the Hell do you think she’s been feeling?” _

Daryl’s glare dropped to a mild scowl.

“She’s been goin’ out of her mind worrying since the  _ second _ Sophia left her sight.”

My clenched fists relaxed to the point I could finally feel the tingling in my fingertips from lack of blood flow.

_ “ _ That’s her  _ child  _ out there, Daryl. Alone in the woods, and she is  _ powerless _ to help.”

Daryl took a step back, all anger from his posture disappearing in a snap.

“She has no clue where she is, no idea if she’s even still alive. She could be hurt, trapped, starving, dehydrated, god forbid any number of things.”

“We may be going out there everyday, but she’s trying like Hell to get her daughter back. Even if she’s dead, she’s still going to look with or without anyone’s help, despite how dangerous it is... Sound familiar?”

I didn’t want to bring Merle into this— I didn’t think I’d ever have to, but I’m sorry Daryl; I won’t see you turn into your brother. Even if it makes me the enemy.


	53. Chapter 53

Daryl blinked, his gaze flitting to the side, away from me. His boots scuffing as he shifted where he stood. Thank God, it finally looks like I’m getting through to him.

“You should know better than anyone, how that feels.”

I sighed, rubbing a hand over my forehead, smoothing my hairline back. “Losing hope isn’t something you can help. It’s not something most people can just regain at the drop of a hat. Everyone has a breaking point and it’s not always the same. I don’t think I have to tell you how easy it is to give up when the pain is too intense, but very few have the will to push through when that happens.”

I leaned out of the way as his head turned downward, eyes casting to the ground.

“We’ve all made plenty of mistakes and we’ll make plenty more. What we choose to do about them is up to us. It’s time to own up to your mistakes, Daryl.”

His jaw set, but his eyes didn’t lift from the dirt & grass under our boots.

“I’m going out. You’re staying.” I set my hand on his shoulder, finally getting him to look me in the eyes. “You need to fix this, for both your sakes.”

I lingered a moment longer before letting my hand slide from his shoulder and started off towards the camp.

I’ve gotta go tell Rick my route before I take off.

When I reached the edge of the field, I jogged through camp to the Cherokee beside the RV.

Rick and Andrea already stood hunched over the map on the hood and I slowed to a walk, coming around Rick’s left.

“—also shows she could be moving this way south.” Rick’s finger moved along the map.

Rick jumped as I leaned against the vehicle and I couldn’t help a smile.

He shook his head, with a breathy chuckle. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

I’d be worried about you if you did.

“You were saying” Andrea scratched her nose, trying to keep the amusement out of her smile.

“Right. If Sophia kept in that direction, she might’ve gotten out of the forest, and into the farmland.” Rick continued, leaning over the hood once again.

You really think she got that far? I mean it’s possible, but she’s just a kid. Even a single mile over uneven ground would tucker her out.

“So we take 74 up to Ivy road, then push down south on foot through the forest ‘till we hit Christopher. Go east a couple miles, then double back.”

Sounds like a solid plan but I can’t help but feel like we’re grasping at straws here— 

“Rick”

We all turned to Hershel walking up to us.

“Hershel. We just have our guns out because we’re gonna go look for Sophia.” Rick was quick to explain, as Hershel rolled up his sleeves in front of us.

I didn’t even think about the guns.

“Before you do that, I could use your help with something.” Hershel rested his hands on his hips.

Can this wait? If these two don’t get going soon they’ll lose the light while they’re out there.

“Count me in” Andrea volunteered.

“Thank you, but I just need Rick.” Hershel and Rick had some sort of mental conversation until Rick glanced back at Andrea.

She turned, securing her gun in her waistband. “I’ll be down at the barn keeping watch until you’re ready.”

I looked between all of them, and resisted the urge to huff a sigh. What the Hell could be so important that it takes priority over finding Sophia?

This is absurd.

I shook my head and turned back to the hood, knocking Rick’s elbow with mine, maybe a little harder than I meant to.

He turned and I moved my finger along the map to show my route.

“You’re going up to the ridge where Daryl went?” Rick cocked his head.

I nodded. I’m gonna try and continue on the trail he was following. It’s the only one that’s turned up anything since the first day.

Rick stared me down for a few seconds before sighing, with a nod. “Alright, I trust your judgement. But be careful.”

Believe me, I will be.

Rick turned to follow Hershel but stopped, “If you’re not back in 3 hours, we’ll come looking.”

Yes, sir. I gave a mock salute.

He nodded, cracking a slight smile before finally trailing Hershel to wherever this “emergency” is.

I shook my head, letting that huffed sigh slip and blew some of my hair off my cheek as I turned back to Andrea.

I motioned to the forest as I started walking and Andrea nodded. “I hope you find something.”

I gave an appreciative nod before cutting across the camp.

I paused when I spotted Daryl & Carol headed off into the trees and a smile brought itself to my lips.

Dixon’s really know how to piss people off, but sometimes...

I’m glad he actually took it though. If I’d tried to smack some sense into Merle(literally or not), he might have tried to shoot me.

You know… now that I think about it. If Merle were ever to apologize for something, that might give me nightmares. Whatever force on Earth could make  _ that  _ man apologize is not something I would  _ ever  _ like to know.

Thank Merlin all Daryl needs is a little push on occasion. I know he’ll do right by her. He’s not Merle, no matter how much he acts like it sometimes.

Merle never feels sorry for what he’s done. Wherever he is, I’m sure that hasn’t changed.

_ If  _ he’s still out there, and I’d bet my right hand he is.

_ —Merlin  _ I feel like an asshole for that joke but it’s too good to pass up. Call it payback for every time you called me ‘silent but deadly’, ya lazy douche goblin.

“Are you going out?”

I turned, finding Carl staring at me and nodded.

He nodded looking at his shoes and my chest pulled. I ruffled his hair, but he still didn’t look up.

Something’s wrong.

I leaned over to match his height and tilted my head until he looked at me from underneath the rim of his dad’s sheriff hat.

“Just...come back, okay?”

My lips parted. I didn’t realize I’d stopped breathing until my lungs started to squeeze but even then I had trouble getting air into them.

What would ever give him the idea I wouldn’t come back? 

I grabbed him and pulled him against .

“I will  _ always  _ come back for you.”

I stayed for another minute before pulling back, and poked the corner of his cheek with a smile.

“You don’t need to worry, okay?”

He nodded, cracking the smallest of smiles.

I ruffled his hair again as I stood and let my hand fall as I walked away; albeit slower than before.

I glanced back over my shoulder to give him one last reassuring smile.

“I’ll see you later, kiddo.”

I watched him wave before setting my sights on the treeline and starting off on my path to the ridge.

* * *

I trekked through the mud just off the Greene’s land.

This silt is like glue. I’m not even walking near the creek bank and my boots have almost come off  _ twice _ .

Tell you what though. If Sophia had come this way, we wouldn’t have had any trouble tracking her. She’d have left a trail of prints like—... those ones.

I stared at the stampede of footprints stamped all over the bank in front of me.

What the Hell…

They’re leading out of the water and to.

My blood ran cold. A cold sweat broke out on my neck, and my lungs ceased.

Oh no

Without thinking, I pulled my knives and took off through the splattering muddy trail, following the prints.

The night at camp outside Atlanta when the herd came out of the trees, poured through my head.

Flashes of blood blinded me to anything except running. The acrid smell burned my nose even though it was a memory.

The screams from that night filling my ears and rolling over one another, amplifying until all I could hear was my own blood pumping in my eardrums.


	54. Chapter 54

I came up on the fence faster than I thought. The whole time I spent running nothing a blur in my memory.

Just as I feared, the tracks continued beyond the fence line but I couldn’t help but notice, the fence isn’t damaged. It almost— looks like it was opened.

I followed the stagnating tracks all the way to the treeline, more cautiously; ready to jump straight into a fight, but I haven’t heard any gunshots yet.

Normally that would be good but none of this is adding up.

I can’t tell how many bodies there are from just these tracks, but it’s more than one or two. That I’m certain of.

Shouting reached my ears as I came through the trees onto the grass field.

I almost tripped to a stop when I saw Jimmy leading two walkers towards the barn like a piece of bait; Rick and Hershel, handling them on the ends of snare poles behind him. All 4 of them iced like cake, in the very mud coating my own boots.

What in the  _ fresh Hell _ is going on?

Shouting erupted as Shane arrived on scene; running down from the house. The rest of the group not far behind him but at this distance I can’t make out what they’re saying.

I don’t really need to hear the words. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what they’re probably yelling about.

I ran as fast as my legs could push me across the distance between us.

Shane shouting like it’s his career isn’t unusual but 90% of the group packin’ serious firearms and surrounding a couple a walker’s on leashes like it’s a damn underground fight? I’m not sure what to think.

“They’re the things that killed Amy. They killed Otis. They’re gonna kill all of us unless we do somethin—”

“Shane, shut up!” Rick yelled, struggling to keep hold of the walker.

My chest heaved as I finally reached Daryl.

I looked at him for an explanation but he only jerked his head towards the scene unfolding before us.

Focusing on Shane’s shouting, while the man stormed circles around Rick & Hershel, I tried to clue myself in.

Rick’s walker flailed and it’s arms swung towards me. I reflexively pulled my piece, jumping back as I trained it on the coveralled male walker.

“Hey Hershel, let me ask you somethin’ man. Could a livin’ breathin’ person. Could they walk away from this?” Shane pulled his piece and shot Hershel’s female walker 3 times in the torso.

“No!” Rick shouted.

Everyone flinched back, or like Daryl and myself, tensed to the point of almost pulling the trigger.

This is why you don’t put your finger on the trigger ‘till you intend to pull it.

“Stop it!” Rick shouted again but I can almost  _ see _ it bounce right off Shane’s skull.

“That’s three rounds in the chest.” Shane shouted. “Could someone who’s  _ alive _ , could they just take that?! Why’s it still coming?” he pointed at Hershel’s walker, before firing again.

“That’s its  _ heart _ , its  _ lungs _ .  _ Why’s it still comin!? _ ” he yelled, aiming again.

I watched the conviction melt out of Hershel’s composure, as he watched the bullets lodge themselves in the unimpeded walker.

“ _ Shane enough! _ ” Rick shouted again, only this time it didn’t fall on deaf ears.

“Yeah you right, man.” Shane stalked towards Hershel’s leashed walker. “That is enough.”

One shot to the head. Like a goddamn drive by, and the corpse crumpled to the dirt; seeping stale blood onto the ground as it took Hershel to his knees with it when he tried to hold on.

My lungs ceased with a glimpse of Shane’s eyes and before I realized it, the nose of my piece was following him as his mass of almost pure rage stalked back and forth between them and the barn.

“Enough, riskin’ our lives for a little girl who’s  _ gone _ !”

“Ey” Daryl growled lowly beside me. I tried to look at him but my eyes wouldn’t tear from Officer hot-head; not while he was stalking around unpredictably.

I couldn’t stop myself from drawing alarming parallels. My throat ran dry, blood freezing in my veins. My heart thundered painfully against my chest. I could feel my pulse beating against my cold skin. Everything skyrocketed in to hyper-awareness; I stopped myself from pulling the trigger by a hair's breadth again and again; with every little jerk and unexpected move Shane made.

“ _ Enough _ livin’ next to a barn full of things that are tryna kill us.  _ Enough.” _

Shane tucked his gun into his waistband.  _ “ _ Rick it ain’t like it was before.”

“Now if y’all wanna live— if you wanna survive. You gotta  _ fight  _ for it. And I’m talkin’ bout  _ fight _ .  _ Right here, Right now. _ ” Shane ran for the barn doors.

“Take the snare pole. Hershel! Hershel, take the snare pole!” Rick shoved the stick towards Hershel but the old man was unresponsive; on his knees, staring at the walker corpse in front of him, making no move to do as Rick asked.

“Hershel, listen to me, man, please. Take it now.” Rick tried desperately but Hershel didn’t budge in the slightest. He almost looks as if none of this is happening around him.

He’s not even there anymore.

“ _ Hershel! Take it! _ ” Rick shouted, as I watched Shane grab a pickaxe and go at the barn door with the flat top.

It took me a moment to realize what he’s doing but he’s riling up the walkers inside.

I moved to stop Shane but Rick’s walker flailed into my path. I short stopped and my boots slid in the dirt, knocking me off balance .

The back of my jacket pulled before the walker could grab my arm and my stomach soared as I fell and my arm shot out, catching me as the side of my thigh hit the dirt.

My gun clattered against the ground in my hand and a hand encircled my bicep as my heels dug into the ground, rushing to push myself backward, out of reach.

“Do not do this brother!” Rick shouted at the top of his hoarse lungs, but it did nothing to stop Shane.

I aimed at the walker as Daryl pulled me to my feet and let go once I was up, to re-aim his shotgun with both hands.

“Don’t do it!” Glenn shouted over other voices as everyone began shouting.

Shane tossed the plank holding the door shut off and hit the barn door with his palms. “Come on. Come on, we’re out ‘ere!”

I glanced at Daryl as I scrambled to get to my feet, kicking up a whirlwind of dust in my wake.

“This is not the way!  _ Please! _ ” Rick shouted again, his voice growing more hoarse with each desperate shout.

Shane came back to the edge of the group and the doors pushed open as he raised his piece.

Andrea ran up on Shane’s right as the walkers started to pour from the doors like a river breaking a damn.

I moved with Daryl to Shane’s left and fired my first shot a millisecond before Daryl’s shotgun went off.

T-Dog came up between Daryl and Shane, joining the shooting.

Glenn ran up on Andrea’s other side and fired his own shotgun.

The walkers went down one after another, with almost every fire. The shotgun took off massive chunks of flesh but weren’t hitting the head every time.

I didn’t think a pistol could be more effective than a shotgun in a situation like this but apparently I live to be proven wrong.

I barely noticed Shane turning and sparing a shot to Rick’s leashed walker but I heard it hit the ground behind me, even over all this gunfire.

The final walker fell with the last gunshot and I spared a glance down the firing line we’ve created in front of the mass corpses littering the ground between us and the enormous wooden structure.

I caught Daryl’s eyes as he lowered his shotgun, while the others began turning away from the massacre we just inflicted.

I was about to follow suit when a growl drew my eyes and my piece back to the barn.

I waited for the walker to come out, and when it did, my lungs collapsed.

A small walker covered head to toe in dirt, stepped out into the light. Cloudy sunken eyes scrunched against the sunlight until they fixed on us. A filthy blue rainbow t-shirt hanging off one shoulder; leaving an old blood crusted bite mark on her neck, exposed.

My knees hit the ground but all that registered was the shockwave sent up my body from the impact. The thick, far-off clattering of my gun hitting the dirt, echoed in my ears as if my head’s underwater.

“Sophia”


	55. Chapter 55

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> I have a Ko-Fi! If you like what you read, please hop over and “buy me a coffee” lol  
https://ko-fi.com/miimaas
> 
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I heard Carol’s steps, mindlessly running toward the small girl; her pathetic cries for the dead girl, fracturing my soul.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Daryl catch the woman, and take her to the ground beside me as gentle as possible.

“ _ Sophia _ ” Carol cried in desperation, reaching for her child even from where she was in the dirt.

My vision blurred as I looked at her, and Daryl. Blue eyes caught mine as Carol cried out again, sobs wracking her whole body.

I tried to shake my head and bring back my control over my body, but all I was able to do. Even as Sophia— the walker, started towards us; stepping over the other bodies on the ground between us.

Carol’s excruciating voice cut the silence weighing thick in the atmosphere.

I know what needs to be done, I know. But by the time I mustered the will to reach for my gun, and my dry lips parted for the shaky breath, Rick moved forward.

I blinked, my shoulders pulling towards the ground with the weight of what I had to let happen now. My teeth biting into my lips, while I watched as what used to be the little girl I played tag with, reached this side of the field of bodies.

I wanted to look away, I don’t want to see this happen but looking at Sophia’s eyes… Cautious, scared Sophia reduced to ashen skin and sunken, empty, twisting veiled hazel; but they’re still her eyes. Still her freckles. Still her.

I shouldn’t have been grateful he moved first but watching Rick raise his Python, the gun weighing heavily in hand, I knew.

I couldn’t have done it.

I took my final look at the little girl I once knew. The girl I vowed to find, and closed my eyes as the shot rang.

I turned away, to the dirt between me and Carol before forcing myself to look at the outside world again.

My hearing cleared to a painful crispness. Carol’s strangled breaths between cries, ringing in my ears.

I forgot.

I forgot why I don’t make promises I can’t keep. Why I always plan for the worst. Why I don’t let my hopes get up. Why I don’t believe in a higher power. At least not one that is merciful and kind; nor cruel and twisted.

“Don’ look.” Daryl lifted Carol to her feet, as I turned my eyes to them. “ _ Don’ look. _ ”

Carol swung around, pushing Daryl off before staggering to a weak run towards camp.

I drew the back of my trembling hand to my cold lips; trying to calm the shake. I knew it was on my skin but I didn’t feel it.

My hand fell, my lips parted, the muscles in my throat contracted as I swallowed. I knew the acrid taste on my tongue but it wasn’t there.

The build of a shiver on my spine was there but never came. My chest hurt and my nose burned from inhaling the sharp scent of gunpowder and dirt, but even the pain of my physical state settled as a mirage on the surface of my mind.

The aches, stinging, nothing did anything to slow the hollow spreading through my bones.

I wasn’t aware my vision hadn’t been in focus up until the moment I found my eyes drawing to the black handgun in the dirt beside my foot.

I stood staring at it for long seconds. The vaguest question of when I had dropped it swayed across my thoughts, but wisped away like a spiderweb in the wind.

I crouched, reaching for the piece. Fingers coming to rest on the cool metal.

“A timid little girl in a dark forest, full of flesh-eating monsters… She never stood a chance. Did she?” I muttered so low, I barely heard myself.

A bitter smile twisted the corner of my mouth.

We were never gonna find her. Everything we did, all the blood we shed, the risks we took. None of it mattered.

I clamped my jaw shut; erasing all trace of any emotion that ever bled through, and squeezed the grip of the gun in hand.

Rising on numb feet, I forced myself to tune back into the world in front of me.

Hoarse desperate sobbing, hot tears, empty or grief & pain stricken faces on everyone in sight.

I tucked the murderous tool in my hand into the waistband of my black jeans, and put the numbness throughout me to use; schooling every part of my being to that distance.

There are things we need to do; for the dead, and those of us left behind. I can feel later. When the dust has settled, and they’re put to rest.

I turned my gaze to Daryl, watching carefully, trying to gauge where his head is at.

He stood tense. His entire body rigid, watching Carol flee.

I can’t even hope to imagine what Carol’s going through. What it’s like to lose a child, and god I hope I never do.

My ribs are cracking apart at the sternum, already and Sophia wasn’t  _ my _ baby.

Carol needs someone to lean on right now; someone who won’t try to make it better.

It took me a few seconds to separate the different emotions in Daryl’s face; most of it being dominated by that hard scowl he’s mastered. The one that sometimes seems almost permanent, but when I managed, I went to him.

Slow in my movement as not to startle, I set a light hand on his tense shoulder, squeezing with barely enough pressure to be considered pressure at all.

He looked at me, without hesitation; though the slightest stiffening of muscle under my fingers until he registered my face, didn’t go unnoticed.

I lifted my chin towards camp.

Daryl looked confused— uncertain for a moment, glancing between me and the camp.

I squeezed his shoulder. “She doesn’t need to be alone right now.”

He nodded, and I let my hand slide from his shoulder as we started.

I walked with him until we past Carl and Lori, sitting in the dirt at the back of the group.

“You comin?”

I glanced at Daryl, not realising I had stopped. I opened my mouth, glancing back at Carl’s back; slumped over. His shoulders looking so much heavier than any child should.

I looked back to Daryl, blue eyes searching me the same way I had before.

“I’ll catch up.”

He nodded, glancing at Carl and went on ahead.

My eyes followed his back for a few moments, before I returned my gaze to the boy who somehow looked smaller than usual, curled in on himself like that.

I sat beside Carl on his right, and as soon as I sat down he looked at me. Tears in his eyes, the pain on his face wrenching that hole in my chest so far I could feel it tearing.

I moved my arm around him and almost immediately he was buried in my chest. I wrapped my arms around him tight. Small shoulders shaking, and tears soaking through my shirt, but he wasn’t sobbing.

The only sound coming from him being sniffles, and the gasps he took between silent cries.

Lori moved to rub his back but I moved my arm from Carl’s back and held it open. She moved closer, giving me the slightest tight smile before wrapping her arms around Carl and leaning against me shoulder as I closed my arm around her as well.

I rubbed Lori’s back, as Carl held onto my shirt and his mother’s hand.

I caught Rick’s eyes as he looked back at his family before they redirected to I assume Lori.

He moved to come towards us but crying turned to screaming, and I pulled my knife without hesitation, pulling Carl and Lori behind me.

Before I even registered what I was doing, my leg was in front of me, prepared to launch me onto my feet at a moment’s notice.

Half the group darted forward to Beth, where she was in the midst of the bodies on the ground. Where a walker in her lap, had its hands pulling her hair.

Shane and Rick both grabbed Beth from behind. Rick shouting, “Pull her away! Pull her away!”

Glenn grabbed the walker’s arms from the front as it tried to keep hold of Beth.

I pushed into a run as they pulled the girl and the walker apart, the other’s stampeding around them not knowing what to do.

The walker turned its attention to Glenn, while T began kicking it in the head. “Head down— head down!”

It snapped for Glenn’s hand and I slid on the dirt, shooting my leather-clad arm out, between it’s mouth and his fingers.

“_Eve!_”

I grunted, clenching my teeth as it’s jaw clamped down on the leather with a bite force no human should possess.

T and Rick scrambled to pull the walker off but Andrea thought fast and grabbed a sickle leaning on the barn.

T-Dog and the others stumbled back as she swung, planting the rusted tool straight through the walker’s head; the tip piercing out of the forehead.

Glenn dropped it’s arms, separating the walker from me as fast as possible.

He went straight for my arm not a second later. “Are you okay? How bad is it?”

I grabbed his frantic hands on my forearm, making him look at me. He calmed if only by a fraction, letting me slip my sleeve off. 

I pulled my pale arm from the sleeve, looking at the thickest part of my forearm right before my elbow, where the teeth had landed.

It didn’t break the skin. A wicked bruise is already forming but no blood, and no teeth marks.

A chorus of sighs erupted from those around. Bringing acute awareness to the fact that no one —not even myself— had been breathing.

“Oh thank god” Dale broke the silence.

Note to self, leather is my best friend.


	56. Chapter 56

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, hop over and “buy me a coffee” on Ko-Fi! https://ko-fi.com/miimaas
> 
> For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an amazing website that makes it super easy for you to support people who create stuff. It's basically a tipping service so you can “buy a coffee” for someone who makes stuff you like.
> 
> Tips would be much appreciated, or just check out my profile, drop a comment and say hi!

Everyone relaxed in exhaustion, now that it was finally over.

Rick scrubbed a hand down his tired face, before turning to look at the others; standing from his crouched position to wander back towards his family.

“What the Hell were you thinking!?” Glenn fired off, startling me.

“That, was stupidly dangerous.” Dale chimed in.

I agree it was a stupid move— but… I can’t be sorry for it. I wasn’t gonna let Glenn get bit, even if it had been my bare arm.

That’s not a risk I will  _ ever _ be willing to take.

I gave an apologetic look. I’m not proud of scaring them.

I got lucky, and you’ve only got so much of that.

I should have used my blade. I should’ve put the blade in it’s mouth, not my arm. It was careless and idiotic, I know.

I should have thought it through. My dying doesn’t help anyone; It’s selfish to think otherwise. Just because I’d rather it be me, doesn’t mean it should be  _ any of us _ .

However, I'd rather not get rung out further if I can at all avoid it.

Clasping his outstretched hand, Glenn helped me to my feet. I gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze; hoping it puts his concern to rest, though I know it’s not likely to.

Hershel’s family started to leave, and I gave Glenn a little push. Until he was trailing after them.

I know he wants to be there for Maggie— he should. I don’t know her well and I’m not gonna claim to, but I reckon, right about now she could use someone.

Shane went after them, no doubt to start something, like he always has to; Rick going after him.

I moved to follow but stopped, glancing at the others; who all look at a loss with themselves.

This is where I’m needed. Rick will have to handle Shane on his own.

I drew in a deep breath, straightening myself up and walked back to Carl and Lori.

“I thought I’d find her” Carl’s solemn voice reached my ears as I came to a stop just in front of them.

“We all did” Lori looked at her hands in her lap, picking at the edges of her fingernails.

“I mean me. That I’d be the one.”

Both mine and Lori’s eyes drew to him.

“Maybe she was hiding somewhere. In a cave or in a tree. She’d be safe, and I’d find her and bring her back.”

He wanted to be the hero; just like his dad.

“He did the right thing. Shooting her like that.” He looked down at his hands clasped together around his knees where they rested in front of him.

I stared at Carl, mouth parting. A part of me mourned the loss of his childhood; there are too many amongst us who’ve had those days stolen from us.

I had hoped Carl would have at least a little more time to be a kid. I should have known better. This is what being a kid gets you.

It’s not as if I know what childhood should be like, anyhow.

One thing I do know though. Carl is too young to have to carry the burden of understanding a mercy killing.

“I’d have done it too”

My eyes widened, at Carl.

I looked at Lori, and she stared back; my expression mirrored in her own.

“Dale?” Lori looked to my side, past me.

“Yeah?” Dale’s weary voice answered.

I glanced over my shoulder at him. This being one of the few times I’ve seen him without his hat, when the sun’s out.

“Could you take Carl up to the house?” Lori glanced at her son.

Dale nodded, coming over to my left.

“I want you to rest” Lori stroked down the hair on the back of Carl’s head.

“Okay” Carl nodded.

I extended my hand, helping him up and watched him go off with Dale.

My gaze fixed on Shane as he came storming back. He passed us, heading closer to his masterpiece of chaos; down by Andrea who stood, after having laid a blanket over Sophia.

When or how she got that, I don’t know, but I’m grateful she has.

Rick came up, not a moment later, dropping the Sheriff’s cap onto Carl’s head as he passed the kid.

I reached my hand out and helped Lori stand as Rick passed us, looking at the corpses.

“Want us to start burying?” T-Dog turned towards Rick from beside Andrea, as those of us still here, gathered to deal with the aftermath.

The only ones who could stand to stay being myself, Lori, T, Andrea, Jimmy, and Rick & Shane having just returned. Everyone else either couldn’t keep themselves here any longer, or is looking after those who need it right now.

“We need a service. Carol would want that.” Andrea piped up.

“Yeah, we all want that” T shifted his weight on his feet, closer to the blonde, as her eyes flickered down.

I looked at Rick next to me, who looks like he’s not even here. Lovely.

It’s unusual for him to not be paying attention. It’s understandable that he’s got something on his mind but what could be so important it can’t wait for us to finish, well— funeral arrangements.

I scraped my bottom lip between my teeth and looked at Lori, raising one eyebrow.

Seeming to know what I was getting at, she shifted her hands out of her pockets.

“Let’s— let’s dig a grave for Sophia, and Annette and Shawn uh...over by those trees.” she pointed to a small group of trees standing alone just apart of the forest line.

“And we’ll need a truck to move the bodies.” her voice wavered for a moment, obviously not used to being in charge when Rick’s present, but she’s good at directing what needs to be done. I’ll give her that.

I suppose you can’t be married to a leadership-bound person like Rick without picking up a few things.

“I’ll get the keys” Jimmy started to move but Shane stuck out his arm, stopping the kid.

“No no. I got the truck.” the officer stalked off with his hands resting on his belt.

I watched him, turning to keep him in my line of sight until he was a good distance. 

“And the others? That’s a lot a digging.” Jimmy spoke again.

“We bury the ones we love, and burn the rest.” Andrea answered.

I still don’t understand people’s want to be buried. Maybe it’s bias, I’m not exactly the fondest of enclosed spaces, but I always thought it was weird.

I’d rather be burned like ancient kings, not rotting in the ground as maggot food; decaying for centuries— or however long it takes.

“Okay, let’s get to work.” Lori set everyone into motion, dispersing the gathering.

I focused on Rick, nudging him back to the present with my elbow.

He turned, eyes locking onto mine as I gave him the ‘what’s goin on’ look I seem to be mastering as of late. One of my eyebrows has been getting quite the workout from it.

Lori took Rick by the side, motioning my follow with a tilt of her head and we moved just a bit away from the others who were headed off to their self-assigned jobs.

“What did Hershel say?” Lori whispered.

“He wants us off the farm.” Rick answered in a tone of equal volume. “Or Shane at least.”

Can’t say I blame him.

“That’s not a surprise.” Lori shook her head, glancing at her dusty boots.

“We’re lucky someone wasn’t killed, and all that gunfire— more walkers could’a heard.”

I watched Rick, waiting for his response but the blank borderline distressed look he’s sporting is strange.

I’ve never seen him make a face like that before now. Lori seemed to notice too.

“Baby, what is it?”

Rick shifted, taking a deep but fatigued breath. “She was there, all the time.”

“And you did everything you could.” Lori’s tone made my eye twitch. I know you’re tryna help, and you’ve probably had this type of conversation with Rick before, but I’mma be honest with you. That sounded more than a little patronizing.

“Yeah I know. I always do, don’t I?” Rick looked at the dirt, hands set on his holster belt, voice grainy and heavy with guilt.

“Went after her, protected her. But she still got bit —and Carl, still got shot.” Rick gestured with his hand in no particular direction other than ‘away’ from the conversation.

“Mm-hmm” Lori nodded, showing she understood and was still listening.

Somehow I feel like I’m intruding on this conversation. Maybe I should just— go. This seems like a ‘couple’ conversation.

“People counting on me and I had ‘em chasing a ghost in a forest.” Rick’s voice came close to breaking on the last word.

Whoa, hold up.  _ What? _

Lori reached out, touching his cheek. “Hey”

Rick pulled away from her hand, not in a sudden or violent retreat but enough to make her withdraw her hand.

Rick backpedalled and started towards the house before Lori could say another word.

Lori turned, with a distressed exhale and looked at me.

I put my hand on her shoulder, trying to convey my intention but my next action will be enough even if I didn’t get my point across with this.

I jogged after Rick, who was already halfway to the house, and grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

He clenched his jaw but stopped nonetheless.

“Chasing a ghost? As opposed to what?” I gave him a chance to give me a reason but the obvious set of his jaw was enough answer to that.

“Abandoning a child and telling her mother, I’m sorry about your timid, terrified 12 year old but she’s  _ probably _ dead so we’re just gonna assume she is and take off, because we can’t be bothered to keep looking. Even though we’ve got pretty much  _ nothing else  _ to do.”

Rick shifted, a bit uncomfortable; the startled action reminding me of Daryl. It’s surprising that I’m actually getting used to this reaction whenever I open my trap.

However, it doesn’t seem like he’s gonna himself out of this self-loathing with just that.

“Rick, you made the right call. Even if the result wasn’t what we wanted.”

“How can you say that? When she died out there because a me— because I left her alone?” He looked at me, dumbfounded. His tone the definition of incredulous.

“And if she had been alive? Would you still be moping about looking for her all this time? Would you still think it was a mistake? Or would you be thanking God you didn’t give up?”

He stared at me, deeper thought flicking through his eyes; but not unattentive, as it had been earlier.

“You think Carol, or anyone else here would have forgiven you —or _ourselves— _if she had been and we all just gave up before knowing for certain. You think we could have lived with that? That it wouldn’t have eaten away at what’s left of our consciences ‘till there was nothin’ left?”

I watched the muscles in his face contract in a million different ways, giving away the internal conflict I was creating. He knows I’m right, I know he does. Those pinched lines between his brow tell me so.

“Life is a vicious place full of cruel outcomes, but _you are not to blame, Rick._ Stop doubting yourself, or they will start to. And they can’t take that right now.” I pointed back the way we came, even though most of the group has broken off from there by now, Lori included. We are the only two left out here.

Rick looked me in the eyes again for the first time since he diverted them, after I started scolding him.

“If you spin off, who's gonna keep them safe? Shane? The guy who wanted to give up looking for a lil’ girl because he couldn’t be bothered anymore? Who put the  _ entire _ population of this farm in jeopardy because he couldn’t take two minutes to think through  _ exactly _ what his actions would entail? —The peril his decision could bring down on us all?”

“Don’t be such a fool. You won’t always win —no one does, not even gods.” I put both my hands on his shoulders, forcing his eyes to mine.

“Rick there’s a  _ reason _ we follow your lead. We trust you because when it counts, you step up. Regardless of how things turn out.”

He breathed deep, glancing at his shoes again but this time they didn’t stay there for more than a few seconds; coming back up to meet mine, with that defeat all but a shadow in the iris.

“What’s done is done. Death isn’t gonna stop looming just because you feel bad. You have to decide now, whether to let yourself be destroyed by things that can’t be changed, or to keep going in spite of them. If not for yourself, for the ones you care about.”


	57. Chapter 57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, hop over and “buy me a coffee” on Ko-Fi! https://ko-fi.com/miimaas
> 
> For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an amazing website that makes it super easy for you to support people who create stuff. It's basically a tipping service so you can “buy a coffee” for someone who makes stuff you like.
> 
> Tips would be much appreciated, or just check out my profile, drop a comment and say hi!

Rick stared at me in a way I can only describe as stumped by a puzzle.

“You know for someone who doesn’t talk much, you sure know your way around words. Remind me never to argue with you. I’d never win.”

I raised an eyebrow.

He chuckled, shaking his head, and pat my shoulder as he moved around me towards the house.

So wait, did I just...win? —That feels like the wrong word— but… he said— I’m confusing myself.

I stared after him until he went into the house, out of sight.

He said to remind him never to argue with me, he would never win.

So does that mean I got through to him, or is he just deferring to what I said because he doesn’t have an answer for himself?

I offset my jaw, running my tongue over my molars. My eyebrows knit together in something akin to frustration but probably looks more like pouting.

I scratched my head, and shoved my hands into my pockets. Starting towards the RV; still confused, and probably will be for a while.

I can’t tell if I’m missing something, if he deliberately withheld, or it’s actually straightforward and I’m just having a brain malfunction.

When I reached the RV door, I swung it open and Daryl glanced over his shoulder, from his place on the counter inside.

Carol shifted in her seat at the table directly across from the door, but didn’t look.

I stepped in, closing the door behind me and watched her for a moment.

I’m not good at this. I don’t know if she needs a hug, if I shouldn’t touch her, if I should just go away and leave her be, leave her be but stay here like Daryl.

Everybody’s different when it comes to loss— and what they need is not always what they want.

I’d know if it were Daryl, he’d want space and I would give him that but I wouldn’t leave him alone. Even if he didn’t know he wasn’t alone(preferable).

But I’ve spent a lot of time with Daryl, it’s not difficult to predict how he’ll react, most of the time. Carol, though?

I don’t know Carol well enough to know what she needs. I knew before she didn’t need to be alone, but that much was obvious. Right now I can’t tell what she needs.

I don’t know if she wants us to leave, but needs us to stay. If fewer people here would be better than more; in which case I would leave it to Daryl, seeing as he’s been here longer already.

Daryl tapped my arm, and motioned to the counter next to him.

I think I was staring at him, oops.

Moving around his knees, I folded my arms as I leaned against the counter on his left.

I trust Daryl’s judgement more than mine when it comes to Carol. He seems to understand her better than the rest of us(me at least). Though I’m not sure how or when that happened— and I’m positive he doesn’t either. If he’s even aware he knows her so well.

I know enough to say her behavior conflicts with what she thinks. She thinks one thing but does another, and I know why.

Anyone who’s spent even 1 day in a similar situation, or the system, would know.

A lot of the kids you see carr— carried, the signs.

Skittish, quiet. Look like they wanna speak but won’t.

It’s in the way the carry themselves, and how they look over their shoulders every few minutes, if not seconds, without realising they do it.

How their eyes trail over other people, watching for the sign they’re about to be hit. Flinching whenever they receive an unexpected or just a tad too hard touch.

They move like a magnet of the same pole around other people; always standing with a radius of space between them and others. Even people they’re close to.

Carol’s like me, and Daryl, in this regard.

The three of us… We make a perfect example of how someone makes it through a situation like ours. The details may vary between us, even to the extreme, but there are only so many ways you survive through stories like ours.

You either become angry at the world, like Daryl; lashing out to protect yourself, but continue to be hurt by it regardless.

You become skittish and scared of everything, like Carol; always waiting for the next attack, but desperate in seeking someone or something to make it stop. A constant struggle.

Or you become like me.

Isolating yourself.

Learning everything you can about anything that even remotely relates to your situation.

Seeking strength, or power; any semblance of control. Eventually, you find it and either become like your abuser, or you get out by becoming an island.

Doing everything on your own— never rely on someone else. Always vigilant; watching others behavior as if waiting for an opening.

Reading body language more than, and in some cases better than, words.

Constant searching for the motive behind even everyday actions, just in case.

The only person you trust, is you.

It’s better than being a victim. Better than being helpless.

Being able to take care of yourself, away from whatever life you’re leading. That sounds like a pretty sweet deal when you’re trapped; hurting, or being hurt.

But… that’s a lonesome existence. Almost not worth living, if it weren’t the fact it fosters a self-reliance mentality. The ‘I will endure no matter how painful it is’ mindset, doesn’t allow the thought of giving up or giving in.

I don’t think it’s a bad thing to have that mindset, but the problem comes from the trust it withholds from others.

I don’t know when I realized —though I know it was after I met the group, and before Rick came back— but living like that, _ is hard _. And harsh.

Not just anyone can do it, and looking back at it now, it was killing me.

The constant awareness. Distrust of everyone and everything. Only ever being able to achieve surface trust of another person(trusting them not to stab you when you sit next to them but still can’t turn off the hyper vigilance in their presence).

Always being alone, meant there _ was _no one to go to for help when I needed it. When even by my own power, no matter how much I fought or struggled for it, something was just not possible to do alone.

When you realize solitude is not as good as it sounds, things change.

It’s difficult to be reminded, humans are social creatures. We need a pack. Being lone wolf doesn’t work, no matter how appealing it sounds.

It’s just the way we’re wired. To seek out even just one other being to trust; even if you don’t realize you’re doing it.

I didn’t. Not until long after it had happened.

Trust is like friendship. By the time you acknowledge it, you’ve already been that way for a long time.

For it to be Daryl of all people, to remind me carrying every ounce of your own trust, is one of the heaviest things in the world…

I wouldn’t have believed it when we first met— not even after the CDC.

Hell, I didn’t believe it right up until the moment I accepted it. That much didn’t happen until after he proved to be worthy of that trust; without realising, or intending to.

Now that I think about it. The moment someone proves to be trustworthy(whatever that entails for you), is when you let go.

When you let them carry that trust for you. Whether you realize it or not— 

The door opened and both Daryl and I turned. I leaned forward a bit to look around him, until Lori stepped inside.

She watched Carol for a moment. A look of mourning twisting her tired features, before casting her gaze to the floor. “They’re ready.”

I looked to Carol, and watched as she shook her head. Not looking at Lori; not even moving her eyes from the grimy table, where they’ve been since I myself walked in.

Not so much as turning her shoulders so her back wasn’t to us.

“Come on.” Lori tried gently.

“Why?” Carol asked, shaking her head. Her voice filled with disinterested despair.

“Cause that’s your little girl.” Daryl surprised me by being the one to answer.

“That’s not my little girl.”

My lips parted. Carol finally turned towards us, just enough her watery eyes could look at Daryl. “That’s some other...thing.”

She blinked, eyelids stuttering as she looked away again; Turning out the window opposite of us.

“My Sophia was alone in the woods.” She nodded, as if to affirm the notion in her own mind.

“All this time I thought...” she shook her head for umteenth time. She took a breath like she was about to speak but sighed instead.

“She didn’t cry herself to sleep. She didn’t go hungry. She didn't try to find her way back. Sophia died a long time ago.”

Silence followed and even as I heard Lori leaving a minute later, I couldn’t move my gaze from Carol.

My mouth clamped shut as Daryl got off the counter with a rough exhale through his nose.

I watched him leave, finally able to look away from Carol. His jaw tight, steps angry but lighter than I would’ve expected as he followed Lori.

I moved to do the same, stopping to touch Carol’s shoulder but I didn’t make it.

My hand hovered behind her, fingers barely an inch from brushing her shoulder, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch her.

Retracting my hand, I turned, stepping out of the RV.

I jogged to catch up to Daryl, and we walked in silence; Trailing after Lori towards the trees we had agreed the graves would lie under.

I know she’s in pain, I know that. Everyone grieves in different ways.

I don’t have any right to hold jack shit against her, Sophia was _ her _ daughter, but that—…

That was cruel.

To Sophia’s memory if nothing else.

* * *

Everyone accept Carol gathered for the funerals.

A simple large stone was placed at the foot of each freshly dug grave. The same stones Otis’s memorial is built out of; gathered from the same pile.

I stood beside Daryl, between him and Lori at the far end of the group.

No words were said, or if there were I didn’t hear them.

There was barely a sound.

All tears had been spent after those barn doors were wrenched open, and we were forced to shoot our loved ones.

All that’s left is to stand as withered, hollow shells.

The second the first person walked away(Shane), it was like a trigger had been pulled. Simultaneously everyone accept myself departed; almost running away.

I watched Daryl trek into the woods. Why he’s going out there? I’m not sure, but I can venture a guess.

It was mere seconds before I stood alone at the foot of the graves. One a good foot shorter than the other two.

Part of me can’t believe how much disrespect is happening today, another understands why— understands what pain makes people do, and part of me is grateful.

Because with everyone gone, I don’t need to be there to lean on... my knees hit the dirt in front of Sophia’s grave; finally giving in.

The wrenching in my chest since the moment those doors swung open worsened as tears began sliding down my cold skin in waterfalls.

My hand covered my mouth, the other digging into the dirt painfully.

My lungs trembled.

My legs ached.

I choked on silent cries as I knelt over a small grave. The dust my knees kicked up made me cough with the first of many sharp inhales.

My hand smothered every small noise, even hiccups, as I tried to keep from making anymore sound than was necessary.

Salty drops rolled over my knuckles, and slid under the pads of my cold fingers. My throat constricted with every desperate sound I wouldn’t let pass. Every agonizing breath accompanied a sniffle from forcing my breathing through my nose.

My shoulders shook like I was on the verge of hypothermia. My white-knuckled hand stung in the dirt, as it clenched a small rock.

“I’m sorry”, I squeezed my eyes shut, dropping my head until my chin almost touched my collarbone. I dropped my hand from my face, placing it on the stone before me.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t— I didn’t—”

My lungs gasped as if I was drowning. Cold wind brushing my hair off my neck and chilling my skin even further.

_ My lapse is the reason you were in that forest at all. _

“If I had been watching the back like I always do— instead of running off to look through cars—”

“If I had gone back when I thought to— You wouldn’t have been out there alone— Rick wouldn’t have been the only one—” My forehead collided with the stone but even if I had cracked my skull open on it, I doubt I would’ve felt anything. “—you didn’t have to die, _ I could’a dealt with those walkers! _”


	58. Chapter 58

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, hop over and “buy me a coffee” on Ko-Fi! https://ko-fi.com/miimaas
> 
> For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an amazing website that makes it super easy for you to support people who create stuff. It's basically a tipping service so you can “buy a coffee” for someone who makes stuff you like.
> 
> Tips would be much appreciated, or just check out my profile, drop a comment and say hi!

I sat on the porch steps, staring at the dirt on my hands. The little bits of red mixed and congealing over previously _ almost _healed cuts.

My sore throat stretched with every breath; hoarse. Not that you could tell.

The skin under my eyes tight, pulling every blink. My face is probably still red, but I’ve been sitting in the sun. Hopefully it’ll be mistaken for a sunburn if anyone sees.

I don’t think I’ve _ ever _cried like that for someone. Not even myself.

...Never again.

Never again will I allow myself to be distracted from watching, never again will I second guess my instinct. Never again will my safety come before theirs.

The time for tears is over.

I scrubbed a hand over my face, taking a deep breath.

I jerked as smashing glass crashed inside the house.

In less than a second, I was on my feet running through the front door, knives in hand.

I ran through to the kitchen, finding Glenn and Maggie crouched on the floor beside Beth. Broken dishes scattered across the wood floor around them.

“Beth!” Maggie shook her sister. “Beth, what’s wrong!?”

Her sister didn’t respond, her eyes didn’t even move; honestly she looks like an actor on TV whose just “died”.

“We need to find my dad” Maggie looked at me.

I nodded and ran for the hall.

Glenn’s footsteps followed me, taking the hallway, shouting. “Hershel!”

I grabbed the railing of the staircase as I swung around to the front of it, taking the steps two at a time until I reached the top.

I searched every room on the upper floor, to no avail, before running back down the stairs; jumping the last four steps.

Glenn almost ran straight into me coming back from down the hall.

I stopped last second, jerking back at the same time Glenn turned his shoulders, to avoid each other as I let him run past and out the front door, briefly shouting, “I’ll go get help!”

I rushed back to the kitchen where Maggie was on her knees beside her sister. 

I took a quick breath, and moved forward. I doubt Maggie’s capable of deadlifting her sister off the floor.

I motioned for her to move before grabbing Beth’s hands and pulled until the girl was in an upright position.

I braced her torso on my shoulder, ducking my head underneath her arm, before pulling and leaning back onto my heels at the same time.

Maggie’s hands came around her sister, helping me lift as I braced my hands on the floor and stood up.

I groaned getting to my full height, before wrapping my arms around the girl’s legs, while most of her bodyweight sat over my shoulder.

“Her bedroom?” I turned to look at Maggie, around Beth; being careful not to knock her dangling head on anything.

“Uh— this way.” Maggie came around in front of me, and I followed her through the house. The wood floors creaking under my & Beth’s weight, which made a strange uncomfortable feeling blossom in my gut.

Glenn came back as soon as I laid Beth down, and stepped aside to let Maggie be by her side.

“I couldn’t find Hershel” Glenn panted out of breath, eyes frantic as he looked at me.

“What’s happening to her?” Maggie looked to me as well and in that moment, all I could see were two scared kids. I forget sometimes how much younger than me these two are. They haven’t been adults for nearly as long as they seem.

I set my hand on Maggie’s shoulder; using my other with a flat palm, motioning down.

She needs to calm down, for Beth’s sake. Running around like headless chickens will do more harm than good.

I motioned for the two of them to stay here, as I went out the door on the opposite side of the room.

Two doors to your bedroom would get annoying but right now, it works out better for us.

I ran outta the house, looking for Rick, or Daryl, or even Shane but Lori coming towards the house from the path that leads down to the barn, caught my attention first.

I shoved my fingers in my mouth and a loud whistle pierced the air.

Lori’s eyes snapped to me in a blink, and I whipped my hand in a ‘come’ motion so hard I heard my wrist crack.

I turned back to the house as soon as she started running, and held the door open.

I spotted Rick and Shane, running out of the treeline from the camp as Lori hit the steps.

They must’ve heard the whistle.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Lori panted, following me through the house as I lead her to Beth’s room.

As soon as we reached the door, Maggie looked at Lori and the words tumbled out of her mouth. “What’s wrong with her?”

Lori looked at Beth on the bed, and after a few shocked seconds, spoke with remarkable composure in her voice; despite how hard she’s still breathing. And the internal panic I know she’s having because of how tense she is, next to me. “She might be in shock. Where’s hershel?”

“We can’t find him anywhere.” Glenn answered from where he was leaned against the wall on the other side of the room, arms crossed over his chest.

Good, he seems to have calmed down quite a bit. That’ll be good for Maggie’s composure too.

“What’s goin’ on?” I looked over my shoulder at Rick and Shane.

I turned towards them, and Lori came around me from the doorway.

“Beth collapsed, and we can’t Hershel.” Lori stepped back from the door, like she was trying not to let Maggie and Glenn hear her, though the door is wide open.

Rick and Shane looked at each other before walking down the hall.

I followed after them, Lori, Maggie, and Glenn all on my trail a moment later.

* * *

“Your stepmother's things?” Rick shifted stuff around in a cardboard box sitting on Hershel’s bed.

Half the room is packed up, all women’s things. Dresses, clothes, perfume, shoes, everything except pictures.

“He was so sure she’d recover.” Maggie leaned against the dresser on the other side of the bed from me, putting her fingers in her pockets. “They’d just pick up where they left off.”

“Looks like he found an old friend.” Shane tossed something to Rick, from where he was leaning on a larger dresser on the other side of the room from me.

Rick caught it, easily; turning the old flask over in his hand.

It’s times like these when I’m reminded Rick & Shane were cops— partners, before all this.

“That belonged to my grandfather. Gave it to dad when he died.” Maggie took it from Rick, looking at it as if she was surprised to see it. But clearly she’s seen it before.

“I didn’t take Hershel for a drinker.” Rick glanced at me, from my place leaning against the doorframe.

“No, he gave it up on the day I was born. He didn’t even allow liquor in the house.” Maggie went back to the nightstand/dresser, leaning back again. The flask still in hand.

Oh I know that face, Officer. That’s your thinkin’ face.

“What’s the bar in town?” Rick moved around the bed and I moved farther into the room, to stand at the foot; closer to Lori who was sat in a chair just underneath the window across from the door.

“Hatlin’s.” Maggie answered. “He practically lived there in his drinkin’ days.”

“Bettin’ that’s where I’ll find him.” Rick muttered absently, glancing at Shane.

“Yeah I’ve seen the place. I’ll take you.” Glenn moved from Maggie’s side in front of the walk-in closet door, towards Rick.

“All right. I’ll get the truck.” Rick waved as he moved for the door.

“N— no.” Maggie stopped Glenn with a hand on his arm.

“It’s an easy run.” Glenn’s voice was laced with confusion as he stared at the brunette; Sparing a glance at both me and Rick, as if we’d have an answer as to why his girlfriend would object.

“Like the pharmacy?” Maggie asked.

Pharmacy? What happened with a pharmacy? What is she talking about?

“Hey, Maggie?” Rick got her attention, and smiled like the reassuring police officer I’m positive he once was. “I’ll bring ‘im back.”

Rick left the room just before Glenn began whispering to her, “Maggie, that was different.”

Lori followed him out immediately, and I watched Shane as he moved from his side of the room to go as well, until all three of them were out in the hallway, already arguing.

At least Glenn and Maggie are trying to keep it between them with low voices.

Great. I’m caught between two couple’s arguments. One of which is a back-assward love-triangle I don’t even _wanna_ _know_ about. It pains me to even know that I out of everyone in the group and beyond, have probably known about it the longest.

I sighed, rubbing my fingers over my eye ridges; not listening to the argument happening right in front of me.

It’s something about nearly getting killed, but ‘abortion pills’ was what caught my attention.

I snapped my fingers, and walked around the bed; catching their attention.

I gave a quizzical ‘explain’ look, and Glenn looked at Maggie, uncomfortable. But I know that face.

You have the worst poker face imaginable, Ace. What are you hiding?

You will tell me, but later. Right now, the priority is Beth. We’ve gotta find Santa— I mean Hershel.

I clapped my hand onto Maggie’s shoulder, looking her in the eyes. “He _ will _ be back. I’ll make sure of it.”

Maggie stared back, searching my eyes. Her gaze directed down at my hand. My other hand. The one I put between the teeth of her step-mother’s corpse and his leg.

I watched her throat constrict as she swallowed before glancing at Glenn and however reluctantly, finally nodded.

I gave her a solid nod and looked at Glenn, jerking my head towards the door.

I went out first, letting him hang back a bit to talk to his girl; even though they are following me out of the room.

Heading out front and down the porch steps, Rick’s already got the red truck with the bed cover, pulled up and ready to go; Standing beside the open driver’s side door, and counting the bullets in his hand for his python.

Rick looked up at me as I approached, taking out my own piece to check it over.

I don’t use it often, but I keep it clean, nonetheless.

“Why’d you do it?”

I looked at Rick, confused. Well that was outta the blue.

“You had a knife in your hand. You could’a killed that walker easy. Why’d you stick your arm in the way?”

Oh.

I tucked my gun into my wasitband again.

I know why I did it. I know it was an irrational move but, “Wasn’t thinking about it.”

Rick gave me a weird look, like he was trying to associate a word with something that just didn’t fit, and I sighed.

“I wasn’t gonna let him get bit. Truth be told, if it were a choice between me, and anyone else here” I looked at him. “There is no choice.”

“You’re prepared to do that?” He turned his shoulders, fully facing me; stowing his trusted weapon in the familiar holster attached to his thigh. 

“In a heartbeat. No matter how many times I have to make it, I will always make the same decision.”

Rick’s lips parted like he was gonna say something but nothing came out. He just continued to stare at me.

“It’s odd. I’ve never had anyone I was willing to die for, before. I’ve taken a hit for a lot of people, but die?”

I glanced towards the house where Glenn and Maggie were just coming down the porch steps and stopped and the bottom to say something to each other again.

“...I should probably be worried about how easy that sounds, now.” I could feel Rick’s gaze on me but I didn’t glance back until Glenn was headed towards us.

“You ready?” Rick asked, turning to Glenn.

“Yeah” Glenn looked at us but the way he shifted his eyes away makes my spidey sense tingle. Like before, about him hiding something.

He looks a little...dare I say, spooked.

I got in the backseat, as I was already on this side of the car, and Glenn was headed towards the other side. Besides, I kinda like the back better. I don’t know why.


	59. Chapter 59

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, hop over and “buy me a coffee” on Ko-Fi! https://ko-fi.com/miimaas
> 
> For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an amazing website that makes it super easy for you to support people who create stuff. It's basically a tipping service so you can “buy a coffee” for someone who makes stuff you like.
> 
> Tips would be much appreciated, or just check out my profile, drop a comment and say hi!

I watched the trees and scenery whiz by out the window as we headed towards town.

I haven’t been over here before, neither has Rick as far as I know. Glenn’s been navigating for him but he’s been unusually quiet this ride.

We’re already at the edge of town and he’s barely mumbled a word. Just pointing for where to go for the most part.

I’d say he’s been spending too much time with me, but I know that isn’t true, because I’ve been by myself, with Daryl, or solving one problem after another for most of the past few days.

Alright, I’ve had enough of this. I scooted forward, to the edge of my seat in the center of the back; resting my elbows on the front seats as I leaned forward.

I nudged Glenn, and waited for him to look at me. It didn’t take long for him to cave to my gaze.

“Maggie said she loves me.”

“Mm-hmm” Rick glanced over, nodding.

A toothy smile broke out on my face, and I punched Glenn’s arm. I knew you two were a good match!

Glenn looked at Rick and me with an incredulous smile, “She doesn’t mean it. I mean she can’t.”

What?

Am I looking at Glenn like he’s stupid? Maybe. Is it justified? Absolutely.

The best friend rule, you’re allowed to let your friend know when they’ve said some stupid shit.

“She— she’s upset or confused.” Glenn turned his eyes forward again. “She’s probably feeling, like—”

“I think she’s smart enough to know what she’s feeling.” Rick cut him off. Thank god.

“No. No.” Glenn shook his head in denial.

Rick laughed, and our eyes met in the rear-view. I couldn’t help but snicker with him, because honest to Mordred I cannot believe this is really happening.

Forget all those dystopian works, cause the world ending isn’t a good enough reason to no longer worry about being confused and uncertain when it comes to love.

“No, you know what? She wants to be in love, so she— she needs something to— to, like— to hold onto.”

Uh-huh, keep going. I think you’ve managed to convince yourself so far.

I knew you weren’t great with the ladies, Ace. You’re still pretty young, but...somehow I didn’t see this coming. I really didn’t think you were a naive, in-denial kind of guy. I thought you’d become a puppy at her beck and call.

“Glenn, it’s pretty obvious to everyone Maggie loves you” Rick spoke over the top of him to stop Glenn’s pathetic attempt at explaining this to himself. “And not just because you’re one of the last men standing, so what’s the problem?”

Glenn glanced at the ground in guilt— or regret? “I didn’t say it back.”

Ahh

I rubbed my forehead, licking my bottom lip.

“I’ve never had a woman say that to me before. Except my mom, of course, and— and my sisters.” He glanced at his lap.

“But with Maggie, it’s different.” I sure hope it is; otherwise you might need to sort a few things out with yourself.

“I mean— we barely know each other. What— what does she really know about me? Nothing. We’re practically strangers.”

That’s never stopped love before. Romantic love isn’t the only type pulling that either.

“But I— I didn’t know what to do with it. I just stood there like a jerk.”

Well at least you acknowledge it. To be fair, that must’ve come as quite a shock, especially after everything that’s been going on.

“Hey. Hey, this is a good thing. Something we don’t get enough of these days.  _ Enjoy it _ . And when we get back, return the favor. It’s not like she’s going anywhere.” Thank youuu, Rick. The voice of reason in this chaotic life.

I’m so glad you didn’t die in that hospital, and instead are here to help rangle runaway members, so I’m not always the one who’s gotta do it.

Glenn nodded, looking down at his lap. He doesn’t look convinced.

I sighed. You owe me one for this Maggie. “Does being with her make you happy?”

Glenn looked at me; Rick also glancing in the mirror.

“Y— yeah, of course but I—”

“If you’re happy, why get in your own way?”

Glenn stared at me, mouth open and moving but no words came out.

I waited patiently for him to think but after a solid minute, my lip quirked up. New record for how fast I can win an argument. If there’s one skill I’ve been polishing since this group was formed, it’s refuting illogical conclusions.

I set my hand on his shoulder, “The only thing worth anything, is the pursuit of your own happiness. If that includes the happiness of someone else, so be it. You never know what’ll happen from one moment to the next. Don’t squander what you get.”

Glenn stared hard at his hands. The sinking of the words is almost tangible.

We finally pulled up in front of a large wooden building. A gritty sign on the side with _Hatlin’s_ scrawled across it. The streets look deserted, I don’t see a single body on the road, haven’t for miles.

This really must’ve been a small town. There aren’t many buildings either, if this is supposed to be downtown. There aren’t even that many cars that are still here.

“Rick, I know about Lori. Her being pregnant.” Glenn came clean, as Rick parked and turned off the engine. “I got her those pills.”

“I figured.” Rick got outta the car, no trace of surprise at all.

Glenn got out, jogging around the front of the car, as I opened my door and slipped out myself.

“Hey, I’m sorry I kept it from you.” Glenn shifted the shotgun in his hands, so it was at the ready, just in case.

“Don’t be. You did what you thought was right.” Rick turned, looking around. “Just so happens it wasn’t.”

I pulled my knives, doing a sweep as I followed him towards the building; Glenn coming up beside me, doing the same.

Speaking of which. I haven’t forgotten about your little escapade you failed to mention earlier. “Pharmacy. Spill.”

Glenn’s face took a radical change, back to the anxious one he was sporting before on the way here.

“Ah so— a couple days ago, we— Maggie and I, went on a run to get uh— abortion pills.”

My jaw dropped so fast it popped.

No way. You told me she was pregnant, you never said you risked your life— and Maggie’s for this _ .  _ Good lord, I spend a couple of days away from camp, and I miss everything.

“Is she still?”

Rick glanced down, and my eyes narrowed as I zeroed in on him.

“Well I— I believe so.” Glenn looked at Rick too, for what I assume to be confirmation but Rick didn’t answer.

Oh no, you don’t. You are not getting away from this, Grimes.

I did another sweep, making sure we’re still good to talk about this, and whacked his elbow with mine.

He started, looking at me, and I stared him down, lips pursed; Eyebrows raised in expectation.

If you don’t give me a straight answer right bloody now, I’mma do a lot more than clack your elbow, Officer.

My thoughts must’ve appeared on my face, because he caved with a glancing sigh. “Yes. She’s still pregnant. As far as we know.”

See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now let’s go in and get the good veterinarian, shall we?

* * *

**Daryl's POV**

My knife caught on the edges of the wood stick, pushing a shaving off.

I turned the long stick in my hand. Rolling it over to find any pieces of bark I might’a missed before.

I shifted on the uncomfortable stone I was sitting on, readjusting my leg so I could continue cuttin’ down this stick for my new arrows.

“Moving to the suburbs?” Lori’s voice came with footsteps to my right, but I didn’t bother lookin’ up.

“Listen, Beth’s in some kind of catatonic shock. We need Hershel.”

Yeah I’ll bet you do.

“Yeah” I drawled. “So what?”

Lori crouched on my right. “So I need you to run into town real quick and bring him and Rick back.”

Tcgh, figures. You people only come lookin’ when ya want somethin’.

I turned the wood over in my hand, swiping my knife over it again.

“...Daryl?”

I finally looked at her.

“Your bitch went window shoppin’. You want him? Fetch ‘im yourself.” I spat, going back to my arrow. “I got better things to do.”

“What’s the matter with you? Why would you be so selfish?”

“Selfish?” I stood up. “Listen to me,  _ Olive oyl _ . I was out there lookin’ for that little girl  _ every single day _ .”

“I took a bullet and an arrow in the process— don’t you be tellin’ me about gettin’ my hands dirty!”

She took a step back.

“You want those two idiots? Have a nice ride.” I swung my arm towards the road.

“I’m done lookin’ for people.” I sat back where I was before, turning my attention back to the arrow, and continued shaving it down.

“Eve was out there too, risking her life. She almost died —could have fallin’ outta that tree—”

I scoffed. Course that’s the only time  _ you  _ would know ‘bout. She almost died way more than once, and it wasn't cause a no tree.

“—and she’s one of those ‘idiots’ who still went.”

My knife paused right before it was about to dig into the wood once again.

Of course that swamp monster would wind up going to solve a problem that ain’t hers.

They wouldn’t even have to ask ‘er to — probably volunteered ‘erself without a second thought.

I didn’t say nothin’ for more than a minute and she finally gave up, when I shaved another piece off the stick.

I watched her walk away, but before I realized it, I was lookin’ at the road.

Getting up, I went over to my brother’s motorcycle and grabbed my jacket off it, sliding it on.

It doesn’t surprise me Eve went; I should’a seen that comin’.

That woman doesn’t know how to say no.

I reached for my crossbow and stopped.

Why’s it my problem if she goes out and gets herself into trouble? She’s a grown-ass woman.

I growled and turned away, sittin’ my ass back down to work on my arrows.

She can make her own decisions. I ain’t ‘er keeper.


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, hop over and “buy me a coffee” on Ko-Fi! https://ko-fi.com/miimaas
> 
> For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an amazing website that makes it super easy for you to support people who create stuff. It's basically a tipping service so you can “buy a coffee” for someone who makes stuff you like.
> 
> Tips would be much appreciated, or just check out my profile, drop a comment and say hi!

**Eve’s POV**

We stepped through the door of the bar, finding the inside empty except for a lone old man in a white shirt at the bar.

“Who’s with you?” Hershel asked without turning, from the bar directly across the room from us at the doors.

“Glenn, and Eve.” Rick holstered his weapon.

“Maggie sent ‘em?”

Jesus, we’re not post cards. And I wouldn’t call that sending.

“They volunteered. They’re good like that.” Rick started towards the bar, carefully checking the room out as he went.

I peeked through the drapes of the window beside the doors, while Glenn followed him farther into the open room.

Several of the table and chairs are pushed off to the side, or knocked over, but I’m surprised there’s no shattered glass. Half the stuff in this room is made of it.

“How many you had?” I glanced at Rick leaned against the bar next to Hershel.

“Not enough.”

“Not enough.”

I watched a garbage bag blow down the street, not quite able to make out what Rick muttered to Hershel before, “Beth collapsed, must be in some sort a state. Must be in shock. I think you are too.”

Wow, descriptive. You should’a been a narrator.

“Maggie’s with her?” Hershel completely ignored Rick’s concern for him.

“Yeah, but Beth needs you.”

“What could I do?” Gee, I don’t know. Let me think about that for a moment. You could treat her for shock, you could help each other grieve, you could be there for your child when she needs you—

“She needs her mother. Or rather to mourn. Like she should’a done weeks ago. I robbed her of that. I see that now.”

“You thought there was a cure. Can’t blame yourself for holdin’ out for hope.” Rick reasoned.

“Hope?” I heard the barstool shift but glanced and Hershel was still seated. For a second there, I thought things were going well. My mistake.

“When I first saw you runnin’ across my field with your boy in your arms. I had little hope he’d survive.”

“But he did.” Rick countered.

“He did.” Hershel confirmed. “Even though we lost Otis, your man Shane made it back, and we saved your boy. That was the miracle that proved to me miracles do exist.”

Hmph. I never believed in miracles. Luck, however. That’s a different story.

“Only it was a sham. A bait and switch. I was a fool, Rick...and your people saw that. My daughter’s deserve better than that.”

Yeah… to be fair though, we’re probably some of the only people alive who know anything about this infection. All because of Jenner.

We actually saw some of what little research was done before it was destroyed.

I heard Hershel pour himself another drink, and glanced as Rick’s boots alerted me to him coming back towards us  _ post cards _ at the door.

Glenn moved back, glancing outside to make sure we weren’t drawing any unwanted attention to ourselves.

“So what do we do, just wait for him to pass out?” Glenn looked between us.

“Could bring the bottles.” I murmured, glancing at Hershel before returning my eyes to them.

He’s set on drinking, we probably won’t get him to stop any time soon. Doesn’t mean he has to drink  _ here. _

“Just go!” Hershel raised his voice so we could hear him but the shout didn’t have anything other than despair behind it. “Just go”

I sighed heavily, resisting the urge to grind my teeth. We should close the door. We’re gonna be here awhile. Longer than I’d like, no doubt. Because that’s always the way of things now.

“I promised Maggie I’d bring you home safe.” Rick turned back, to head towards the bar.

“Like you promised that little girl?”

I froze.

Silence caved over the bar. My eyes turned slowly, fixing on Hershel’s back.

Rick moved before I could; a new intensity eating the silence alive in his wake. “So what’s your plan? Finish that bottle? Drink yourself to  _ death  _ and leave your girls alone?”

Hershel stood, knocking his glass over. “Stop telling me how to care for my family, my farm.”

He turned, coming towards Rick; moving from that stool for the first time since we got here— probably since  _ he _ got here.

“You people are like a plague!”

Didn’t think I’d ever be called that again.

“I do the Christian thing, give you shelter, and you destroy it all!”

“The world was already in bad shape, when we met.” Rick stopped right in front of him, but his fist looks like he wants to punch Hershel out.

You won’t find me complaining, if he goes through with it. Hershel may be old, and he may be grieving but that doesn’t give you a free pass to say whatever the Hell you want and expect to get away with it.

I clicked my tongue and made my way behind the long L shaped bar.

“And you take no responsibility. You’re supposed to be their leader!” Hershel accused, shaking with anger.

“Well I’m here now! Aren’t I?” Rick shouted.

“Yes.” Hershel nodded, his aggression melting back to his numbed state before.

“Yes. Yes, you are.” he went back to his barstool, taking another drink from what’s left in his glass.

I came around the back corner of the space behind the counter, spying another door back here. Almost a straight shot out of this end of the bar. This place didn’t look that big from the outside, but it looks like there’s a staircase right there, goin’ down.

If there were any walkers that were gonna come up, they’d have done it by now. We haven’t exactly been quiet, and I haven’t heard so much as an out of place scratch, from outside this room.

I’ll keep an eye on it for now, but if we’re here for more than half an hour I’ll go check it out. For peace of mind sake.

However, we’re not staying for more than an hour. Tops.

If the time comes, I will knock Hershel’s ass out myself. He can be as mad as he likes when he wakes up,  _ at the farm _ .

“Now come on. Your girls need you now, more than ever.” Rick grabbed Hershel’s arm to pull him up, and Hershel swung it back, out of his grip.

“I didn’t want to believe you. You told me there was no cure. That these people were dead, not sick. I  _ chose _ not to believe that.”

I couldn’t help another sigh.

A part of me had hoped Hershel would be another voice of reason but apparently age does not always bring wisdom.

I didn’t expect much when we first met, but I didn’t expect to be babysitting him too.

“But when Shane shot Lou in the chest and she just kept comin’. That’s when I knew what an ass I’d been.”

I scrubbed a hand over my forehead.

I don’t have the energy for this drama right now.

Hershel can throw his tantrum, Rick can talk to him, but sooner or later I’ll drag all our asses back home. Kickin’ and screamin’ if necessary.

Rick shifted, to his stance he takes when he’s ready to listen and possibly argue with someone. One hand hanging near his gun, the other on his hip.

“That Annette had been dead,  _ looong _ ago and I was  _ feeding her rotten corpse! _ ”

“And when that little girl came outta the barn… The look on your face—… I knew you knew it to. Right?”

Silence fell again. I glanced at Rick, but he doesn’t look like he’s got anything to say to that. Glenn looks uneasy. I can’t let him take Hershel’s drunk slurs too seriously. I might need to talk to him later, make sure he’s okay.

“There is no hope.”

Of course there isn’t if you’re clinging to the past! To the way things  _ were _ _ . _

“And you know it now, like I do. Don’t you?”

Rick was silent. Glenn glanced at me, and I pursed my lips.

It’s hard to differentiate rational thought from clouded emotion in others on a normal day, nevermind from someone who’s plastered and wallowing in despair.

“There is no hope ...for any of us.”

You know what, Hershel?

Hope all you like. The way most people use it is a waste of time and effort.

The harsh reality is, hope is useful for  _ one  _ thing and one thing alone. Spurring yourself through a task you  _ know _ has a high chance of failure.

“Look I’m done. Cleaning up after you— you know what the truth is?  _ Nothing has changed _ .” Rick leaned on the bar once again, so Hershel would look at him.

Glenn came farther into the room, standing just behind Rick.

“Death is death. It’s always been there. Whether it’s from a heart attack, cancer, or a walker. What’s the difference? You didn’t think it was hopeless before, did you?”

_ Thank you _ . Can we please, finally  _ get  _ somewhere with this stubborn old man.

“Now there are people back at home trying to hang on. They  _ need _ us, even if it’s just to give ‘em a reason to go on.  _ Even if we don’t believe it ourselves. _ ” Rick took a pace, running his hand over his mouth and beard.

“You know what? This— this isn’t about what we believe anymore. It’s about them.” Rick gestured towards the door.

Something moved outside the window, and my hand went to my knife, as I stepped to the left so I could see around Hershel on the other side of the counter; angling my shoulders as I did in case I needed to act fast.

Hershel finished his drink, putting the glass rim down on the bench before he stood up.

The door opened and my knife was in my grip as everyone else turned to the two men who just stepped inside.

“Son of a bitch. They’re alive.” The skinnier man in front turned to the larger one behind him.

_Lovely_. God can we not just— catch a break for _once? One_ break, is that too much to ask!?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, hop over and “buy me a coffee” on Ko-Fi! https://ko-fi.com/miimaas
> 
> For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an amazing website that makes it super easy for you to support people who create stuff. It's basically a tipping service so you can “buy a coffee” for someone who makes stuff you like.
> 
> Tips would be much appreciated, or just check out my profile, drop a comment and say hi!


	61. Chapter 61

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, hop over and “buy me a coffee” on Ko-Fi! https://ko-fi.com/miimaas
> 
> For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an amazing website that makes it super easy for you to support people who create stuff. It's basically a tipping service so you can “buy a coffee” for someone who makes stuff you like.
> 
> Tips would be much appreciated, or just check out my profile, drop a comment and say hi!

“I’m Dave.” the smaller man, took up a seat at the closest table.

I poured a row of drinks into semi-clean glasses(cleanest I could find), and slid them down the bar, towards Glenn at the end; who had moved behind the counter with me.

“That scrawny lookin’ douchebag there is Tony.” ‘Dave’ smiled at his heavier friend.

The larger  _ Tony _ sat at the bar laughed, “Eat me, Dave.”

“Hey, maybe someday I will.” Dave quipped as Rick set one of the drinks he took from the bar next to the man.

“We met on I-95 comin’ outta Phili. Damn shit show that was.”

“I’m Glenn. It’s nice to meet some new people.” Glenn gave the same friendly smile he had when we first met on the stairs of my building, to the man. 

“Rick Grimes” Rick introduced himself, taking another glass off the bar and passing it to Tony.

“What about you, pal? Have one?” Dave addressed Hershel.

“I just quit.” the slowly sobering Hershel answered.

“You’ve got a unique sense of timing, my friend.” Dave smiled.

“His name’s Hershel.” Rick sat on a barstool, just over the counter from Glenn. “He lost people today, a lot of ‘em.”

Dave’s expression fell from it’s —little too friendly— smile, into a more solemn downcast. “I’m truly sorry to hear that.”

He raised his glass towards us. “To better days and new friends. And to our dead— ...may they be in a better place.”

I watched him tap the bottom of the glass on the table before downing his shot, and the others following suit; minus the table tap.

Dave’s eyes settled on me as he set his empty glass on the table. “And you? What’s your name?”

I wonder how long he can stand silence... 

I blankly stared him down, and not even 3 seconds in, he began to look to the others for explanation.

“That’s Eve.” Rick answered in my sted, turning slightly.

Go— dammit, Rick. You’ve ruined my analysis.

“She doesn’t talk much.” Glenn wrapped his knuckles on the bar in a knocking motion, sparing a glance at me; which I returned outta the corner of my eye.

“...Any, particular reason for that?” Dave treaded carefully.

Glenn and Hershel both looked at me, and I could see Rick’s eyelashes in the sunlight from the side of his face, as he blinked.

It occurs to me, none of them actually know the answer to that. Only person I can recall ever telling, is Daryl.

I thought for a second, taking my new opportunity to stare Dave down, when Rick actually  _ can’t _ intervene.

He got uncomfortable fast(judging by his shift and foot tap), and reached across his table; forgoing the answer to his question. “You don’t have to say. I get it. Some things are personal.”

My hand grabbed the knife at my side as soon as I caught sight of a black handle in the back of his waistband.

Rick tensed as well, and Dave seemed to notice as he looked back.

“Not bad, huh?” he reached around and pulled the gun out by the barrel, showing it to us. If that motion had me get ready to throw my knife a moment’s notice, that’s my business.

Rick’s tension dropped but mine didn’t. The safety’s not on.

“I got it off a cop.” Dave looked at the standard issue 9 mill in his hand.

“I’m a cop.” I noticed Rick’s shoulders become unnaturally still; posture a little too settled for my peace of mind.

“This one was already dead.” Dave flashed another charismatic smile and little alarms began to go off in the back of my head.

“You fellas are a long way from Philadelphia.” Rick took a sip of his drink.

“It feels like we’re a long way from anywhere.” Dave stretched, his voice a little louder than I’d like.

I glanced at the doorways of the room, watching for a moment, trying to listen over their talking.

“Well what drove you south?” Rick rested his glass on his knee.

“Well I can tell you it wasn’t the weather.” Dave rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. “I must’ve dropped 30 lbs in sweat alone down here.”

“Yeah, I wish.” Tony interjected from the bar. I took notice of how his shotgun is balance on his thigh. Barrel down, but he could still bring that up quick if he had to.

“No, first it was D.C. heard there might be some kinda refugee camp, but the roads are so jammed we never even got close. We decided to get off the highways, into the sticks, keep hauling ass. Every group we came across had a new rumor about a way out of this thing.” Dave went on, explaining with the occasional hand gesture how they ended up down here.

That doesn’t surprise me. When the outbreak happened, it was a mad scramble to get as far as you could to wherever you thought it would be safest.

“One guy told us there was a coast guard sittin’ down in the gulf, sendin’ ferries to the islands.” Tony spoke up.

That’s not a bad idea actually. There would have to be extensive screenings for scratches, bites— probably a waiting period of a day or so too, to prevent accidentally letting in someone who's infected.

Assuming of course, the islands are already walker free. That would be a big area to keep under control too. It would need to be self-sustaining as well; its own food production, renewable water sources, fuel, power, etc. And the population it could handle would be severely limited.

“Latest was a rail yard in Montgomery runnin’ trains to the middle of the country— Kansas, Nebraska.”

“Nebraska?” Glenn glanced at me, confused.

“Low population, lots of guns.” Tony answered

“Kinda makes sense.” Glenn nodded, directing his eyes to the bar by his hands, pulling a face.

“Ever been to Nebraska, kid?” Dave looked at him. “A reason they call ‘em flyover states.”

Tony laughed, but it wasn’t more than a high pitched breathy whistle to be honest.

The kind you typically hear from people with a history of smoking, and judging by the smoke stashed over his ear, he’s exactly that.

Rick took another sip of his drink but as he tilted his head back, I could see he found it humorous.

I glanced at Hershel who also had a small amused smile, and caught sight of Tony past him.

My eyes narrowed the slightest at the sly look he was sending Dave as he scratched the side of his head.

I glanced at his friend just as the man looked up from his lap, with another disarming smile, “How about you guys?”

“Fort Benning, eventually.” Rick answered after a moment’s hesitation, glancing between the two.

“I hate to piss in your cornflakes, Officer, but um...we ran across a grunt who was stationed at Benning.” Dave motioned between himself and Tony. “Said the place was overrun by lamebrains.”

“Wait, Fort Benning is gone? Are you for real?” Glenn looked between them, disbelief all but screaming from every inch of him.

“Sadly, I am.” Dave nodded. “Ugly truth is, there is no way outta this mess.” You’re just figuring this out, now? “Just keep goin’ from one pipe dream to the next, prayin’ one a these mindless freaks doesn’t grab ahold of ya when you sleep.”

“If you sleep.” Tony corrected.

“Yeah it doesn’t look like you guys are hangin’ yer hats here.” Dave cast a quick glance at the door, and subsequently the rest of the room.

“You— you holed up somewhere else?”

A switch flipped in my head as I zeroed in on him. It’s the same switch that goes off on a first date and their already asking if your place is close by.

I’ve met people like him before. Charismatic, a little too friendly, ask a lot of invasive questions but make it sound like they’re just havin’ a friendly conversation.

Dave may be passable at disguising his intent, but Tony isn’t.

He keeps glancing at Dave. He’s been letting Dave do the talking since the moment they walked in, and judging by their interactions, Tony’s not usually this quiet. I would know.

I can see his lips twitch or press into a tight line every so often; a tick only people who like the sound of their own voice have got, when they’re trying not to use it.

“Not really.” Rick shook his head, and as soon as I heard the change of tone in his voice, I knew he’s picked up on something too.

I don’t know if it’s the same things I have, but I imagine in Rick’s previous line of work, smooth talkers were not uncommon.

I might live to see the day someone can smooth talk Rick, but today is not that day. From what I’ve seen, since I met this man, he’s the king of that court. For one thing, he can talk  _ Shane _ down, and Daryl more and more as of late.

“Those your cars out front?” Dave glanced over his shoulder. Why is that relevant? What is he looking for?

“Yeah. Why?” Glenn spoke before I could stop him.

“Well we’re livin’ outta ours. Those look uh...kinda empty, clean. Where’s all your gear?” Dave rubbed his palms on his jeans.

“We’re with a larger group. Out scouting, thought we could use a drink.” Hershel answered; he still sounds sluggish though.

“A drink? Hershel I thought you quit.” Dave made it sound joking, but he knows something’s up. And the silence he was met with at that “joke”, probably just confirmed it for him.

“Well, we’re thinking of setting up around here. Is it— is it safe?”

“It can be, although I’ve uh...” Glenn hesitated mid-sentence, when both Rick and Hershel turned to look at him. “Killed a couple walkers round here.”

“Walkers? That what you call ‘em?” Dave looked at Rick, who turned his attention back to him, after taking the opportunity to glance at me.

That look, that’s all I need to know we’re on the same page about these two.

“Yeah” Glenn chuckled.

I subtly tapped Glenn’s leg with my foot, as soon as Dave’s attention was elsewhere.

He looked at me and I carefully shook my head; not moving it more than an inch at most.

He glanced at Dave again, then back at me, something registering in his visage before he clamped his jaw and nodded.

“That’s good. I like that. I like that better than lamebrains.” Dave scratched his neck, pulling the back of shirt away from his neck.

“More succinct.” Tony nodded.

“Okay, Tony went to college.” Dave motioned to his friend.

“Two years.” Tony sounded almost offended by that, and glanced at us.

I noticed Glenn’s unnatural smile, baring his teeth a little too much.

“So what, so what you guys set up on the outskirts or somethin? That new development?” Dave jabbed his thumb over his shoulder.

He’s fishing. I watched his eyes roaming over our postures. He’s looking for body language cues.

“Trailer park or somethin?” Tony stood up, heading straight across from his stool at the bar, to the wall. “Farm?”

“Old McDonald had a farm~” Dave absently sung, as he watched his friend.

These guys are not good at hiding their intent. Their skill is low-key amateur criminal at best, but even an amateur is dangerous to someone who doesn’t recognize what they’re doing.

Rick has definitely pegged what’s going on by now. Hershel looks like he’s been around  _ this  _ block before judging by his near-identical reaction with Rick just now.

I can’t say for certain where I fall on this scale of experience without knowing Hershel and Rick’s lives from before, but I’ve seen my fair share.

I grew up surrounded by budding con-artists, thieves, criminals of all natures. Hell— I was one of ‘em for a time back then.

Glenn on the other hand. I’m sorry, Ace but you can barely lie without laughing, or having a nerve spasm.

You’d more likely fall for tricks like this because unlike me, or even Rick, you’re trusting. You might be the only person in this room who was well-adjusted.

“You on a farm?” Dave looked at Rick.

Rick didn’t answer but as soon as there was a pattering noise, we both looked over and my nose wrinkled in disgust at Tony taking a leak on the wall.

“Is it safe?” Tony asked.

“It’s gotta be.” Dave answered, leaning forward now; focusing his attention on Rick. “You got food, water?”

“You got cooze? I ain’t had a piece a ass in weeks.” Tony looked over his shoulder, directly at me, and I rolled my eyes; unable to keep the muscle in my face from twitching.

Glenn cleared his throat, nervously glancing at me.

“Listen, pardon my friend.” Dave rubbed his eyes again; out of frustration this time. “City kids— they got no tact.”

“No disrespect.” Dave looked at me, and I saw the slight flinch in his arms as my eyes pierced his; his pressing into the chair a little bit

He’s not entirely stupid.

“So listen, Glenn—”

“We’ve said enough.” Rick cut Dave off.

Glenn shifted next to me, and I took the opportunity to huff and move down the bar; pretending to offended while I got the other side, where I have a clear line of sight to the both of these assholes.

“Well, hang on a second. This farm— it sounds pretty sweet. Don’t it sound sweet, Tony?” Dave didn’t even notice my moving.

“Yeah, real sweet.” Tony answered, finishing up his business and turned around. He’s got that nice shotgun over his shoulder by the strap. He can’t pull that before I take him down.

“How about a little southern hospitality?” Dave’s attention is focused on Rick. “We got some buddies back at camp, been havin’ a real hard time.”

“I don’t see why you can’t make room for a few more. We can pool our resources, our manpower.” He’s getting desperate.

That would be a nice offer, actually. If it were sincere. Having more bodies to help out isn’t a bad thing, but even if this was a real thing, I wouldn’t be okay with letting just anyone join our group.

“Look, I’m sorry. That’s not an option.” Rick flat out refused.

That took both of them by surprise. The look on Tony’s face says it all, as he looked to Dave, and Dave glanced at his fingers; they didn’t expect us not to bite.

“Doesn’t sound like it’d be a problem.” Dave tried again.

“I’m sorry. We can’t.” Hershel spoke up. He sounds a little more sober now, but not as much as I’d like.

“We can’t take in any more.” Rick stood his ground.

Dave chuckled, rubbing his temple with his forefinger. “You guys are somethin’ else.”

“I thought— I thought we were friends.” He’s running out of options; I recognize that scramble. “We got people we gotta look out for too.”

“We don’t know anything about you.” Rick shrugged.

“No, that’s true.” Dave shifted in his chair. “You don’t know anything about us.”

Dave’s eyes locked on Rick. “You don’t know what we’ve had to go through out there. The things we’ve had to do.”

Is that a threat. My hand crept around to my gun, carefully turning the safety off.

“I bet you’ve had to do some of those same things yourself. Am I right?” he eyed Rick, and while his tone wasn’t aggressive, the hard set to his features reminds me all too much of a certain off-the-rails cop back at camp.

Rick remained silent, but I can see his set jaw from here.

“Cause ain’t nobody’s hands clean in what’s left of this world.” Dave continued. “We’re all the same.”

Whether our hands are clean or not, we are not the same.

“So come on, let’s— let’s take a nice friendly hayride to this farm and we’ll get to know each other.” You really don’t give up do you?

If these two knew what was good for them, they’d walk away, right now.

Rick moved his arm out, wide; almost like a shrug but in the form of a gesture. “That’s not gonna happen.”

“Rick—” Dave started but was cut off by Tony.

“This is bullshit.”

“Calm down.” Rick

“Don’t tell me to calm down. Don’t  _ eva _ tell me to calm down.”

“Whoa” Glenn tried

“I’ll shoot you 4 assholes and  _ take _ your damn farm!”

I pulled my gun, but stopped myself from raising it as Rick stood, moving into my line of sight from Tony. I don’t think he meant to but it still happened and I lowered the barrel below the bar before it could be noticed.

“ _ Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa. _ ” Dave jumped up, defusing the situation before it escalated further. “Relax.”

“Take it easy. Nobody’s killin’ anybody.” Dave clapped Rick’s shoulder in a friendly manner, but Rick still looked at him as he came towards me.

I moved like a repelled magnet to the corner of the bend, as Dave climbed over the bar.

I saw Tony grab his gun behind him, and Rick heard it too from his stance as he stopped moving to keep his eyes on Dave.

“Look.” Dave put his out, taking his gun and didn’t realise I was already aiming at him from over here where Tony can’t see me, as he carefully set his gun on the bar.

“We’re just friends havin’ a drink. That’s all.”

To some that might look like a gesture of good will, but I can’t help but notice the barrel is pointed towards Rick; at an easy to grab angle.

If he’s willing to do that, he must be confident in his ability to grab and shoot before Rick can.

Too bad he’s forgotten to look to his right.

“Now” Dave held his arms wide. “Where’s the good stuff, huh?”

“Good stuff, good stuff, good stuff. Let’s see.” He ducked his head below the bar, and I saw the shotgun under the counter.

However when I saw Dave reaching for it, I tapped my foot on the wooden floor and his eyes flickered to me from below the counter.

The flicker of fear I saw surge through his eyes, tensing every muscle in his body, hardened my steeling glare.

He slowly grabbed the bottle next to the gun, instead. His eyes turned to Rick, as Rick’s hand was on his own gun, before he pulled the bottle up from behind the counter.

“Ey, look at that.” Dave held the bottle up with a smile. “That’ll work.”

He inhaled deeply, grabbing a few glasses from the top of the counter. “You gotta understand— we can’t stay out there. You know what It’s like.”

I glanced at Tony behind Rick, who still has his hand on his gun and my gut stirred me to move.

Rick’s got Dave covered, I’ve seen how fast he can pull that piece and I’d be hard pressed to see Dave outdraw him. But I don’t like the look of Tony at his back.

“Yeah, I do.” Rick nodded. “But the farm is too crowded as is. I’m sorry. You’ll have to keep looking.”

“Keep looking. Where do you suggest we do that?” Dave shifted, resting both hands on the countertop.

I crept past Glenn, careful to be slow and smooth in my movements so I didn’t draw attention to myself.

Thankfully Tony’s like Merle, and his attention is fixed on Rick. I know exactly how to go unnoticed by people like him.

I reached the end of the bar getting a direct line of sight, without being noticed.

“I don’t know.” Rick shook his head, shrugging. “I hear Nebraska’s nice.”

Dave laughed but there was an undertone of malice as he shifted. “Nebraska. This guy.”

I heard the shot without seeing who shot first, but before Tony could react, I put one round in the soft tissue of his side; right where his kidney should be.

He fell backwards into the wall, shotgun going off into the ceiling before I saw another shot go through his chest.

Tony sank to the floor and Rick stepped towards him, putting one final round in his forehead.

I glanced around, just noticing how dark it’s gotten.

I moved towards Rick, to see better in the dark and looked over everyone, making sure they’re alright. Glenn and Hershel both look startled as Hell, but unharmed.

I noticed blood splatter on the mirror/wall behind the bar where Dave had been, but looked back when Tony’s body sank to the floor; hand landing in his own piss.

I get why Rick shot him again, even after I already did. But when Tony was already down… that was overkill. And that’s one Hell of a slippery slope you’re walkin’ right there, Officer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, hop over and “buy me a coffee” on Ko-Fi! https://ko-fi.com/miimaas
> 
> For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an amazing website that makes it super easy for you to support people who create stuff. It's basically a tipping service so you can “buy a coffee” for someone who makes stuff you like.
> 
> Tips would be much appreciated, or just check out my profile, drop a comment and say hi!


	62. Chapter 62

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you read, hop over and “buy me a coffee” on Ko-Fi! https://ko-fi.com/miimaas
> 
> For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an amazing website that makes it super easy for you to support people who create stuff. It's basically a tipping service so you can “buy a coffee” for someone who makes stuff you like.
> 
> Tips would be much appreciated, or just check out my profile. Drop a comment and say hi!

Meeting Rick’s gaze, I sighed through my nose; trying not to judge or knit-pick his reasons for doing what he did.

What’s done is done. There’s nothing we can do about it.

He was bound to snap somehow, sooner or later. And I think we’ve both known that for awhile now.

Rick stowed his Python as Glenn and Hershel came over.

“Holy shit” Glenn’s spooked voice came from my left, as he stared at Tony’s body.

“You all right?” Rick looked at him.

Glenn shifted on his feet, looking at Rick and breathed, “...Yeah”

Rick nodded. “Hershel?”

Hershel didn’t answer, just looked between the places the bodies lie before giving Rick a long stare.

“Eve?” the officer turned to me.

I gave a solid nod, stowing my weapon.

Rick looked between us all. Glenn shifted his shotgun so it was ready to be raised and fire if need be. I pulled a blade, myself, just in case.

Hershel looks leaps and bounds more sober than a few moments ago; the adrenaline is probably to thank.

It’s already dark out; we need to get back before people at camp start jumping to conclusions and run around like headless chickens.

I made my way to the bar, climbing over and dropped down just in front of Dave’s body. I grabbed the piece he was flashing from the floor and rose to my full height again, checking the clip.

He didn’t take real good care of it, but the clips more than half full, and it’s clean enough. I’ll take it.

These two brought this outcome on themselves. The only thing I can’t figure out is why.

Why were they so keen to find out where we’re setup? I doubt they wanted to be allies, or actually join up with us. So what were they planning to do if they got what they wanted?

“Let’s head back.” Hershel broke me from my thoughts.

I looked over, giving a nod before heading to the end of the bar.

A stream of light moved over the room with the sound of an engine.

I ducked, keeping my head down as I came out the end of the bar. I took cover beside Rick at the doors, just under the window and moved the curtain the slightest bit.

The doors of a pickup outside opened and 3 armed men emerged, looking around.

Dammit, I was afraid something like this would happen.

“What do we do?” Glenn whispered.

I looked to Rick and watched the gears turn in his head as he watched out the gap my fingers held open.

“Doesn’t look like they know we’re here. Our best bet is to wait till they leave.” he glanced over his shoulder and Glenn nodded.

Patient approach. Good call, Officer. Glad to see you haven’t lost your head. Yet.

* * *

“Why won’t they leave?” Glenn whispered

“Would you?” Hershel whispered, as I handed him Dave’s gun; taking out my own.

I nudged Rick, pointing to the side room.

“We can’t sit here any longer. Let’s head out the back and make a run to the car.” Rick whispered the plan.

I moved to go, and not a second passed before gunshots echoed outside and our backs were against the wall again.

I looked at Glenn and Hershel on the opposite side of the doors from Rick and I, and put my finger to my lips.

Rick glanced at me and I peeked through the hideous curtains.

My sight set on 3 men outside.

“I cleared those buildings. You guys get this one?” the man who seems to be the one in charge, motioned at the bar.

“No” one man shook his head

“Me neither” the youngest of the three shook his head.

I froze when his eyes landed on the window and they headed this way.

“We’re lookin’ for Dave and Tony and no one checks the damn bar?”

_ Shit _

Footsteps pounded on the wood deck outside, and panic raced through me as they got closer.

Glenn & I had the same idea as the door started to open and we both threw ourselves against it, pushing it shut with our backs.

“What—?”

“Someone pushed that shut. There’s someone in there”

I looked to Glenn at my shoulder, both of us breathing heavily and chewing our lips. Great minds think alike, and apparently develop the same habits.

“Yo, is someone in there? We don’t want no trouble, we’re just looking for our friends.”

Oh yeah, like those two didn’t want any trouble either?

“What do we do?”

“Bum rush the door?” I don’t think they realize we can hear them.

“No, we don’t know how many are there. Just relax.”

Glenn looked at me and I put my finger to my lips as I moved and turned around.

I glanced at Hershel whose staring with saucer eyes straight across from me at Rick.

One look at Rick told me he didn’t know what to do either, he’s still working it out in his head.

“We don’t want any trouble.” the man outside spoke louder and I tensed; alarms going off in my head about the volume. “We’re just looking for our friends. If something happened, tell us.”

‘Yeah sorry, we kinda shot them because they were nosy pricks who couldn’t take no for an answer’. That’d go over well.

“This place is crawling with corpses. If you could help us not get killed, I’d appreciate it.”

Maybe if you’d shut the Hell up, you won’t have to worry about it.

“Dude, you’re buggin’. I’m tellin’ you nobodys in there.”

Listen to your friend.  _ Walk away _ .

“Someone guard the door. If they’re in there, they might know where Dave & Tony are.”

“They drew on us!” Rick called

Shit sprinkles in soy sauce. My eyes shot at him; so wide they stung.

Hershel groaned under his breath, and I spared a glance at him; his expression almost identical to my own.

We should’ve gone out the back and left them to talk to the door like nubs.

“They alive?”

Oh god, please don’t.

“No”

_ OH yes,  _ tell them we murdered their close friends, because that’ll help us get outta here alive.

Mutters erupted outside, and all I caught was ‘they killed’ and arguing about leaving before the main speaker’s voice cut the others off, “I’m not telling Jane. I’m not gonna go back and tell them Dave & Tony got shot by some assholes in a bar.”

“Your friends drew on us!” Rick defended. “They gave us no choice!”

_ What the HELL are you doing!?  _ They know we can hear them now!

Oh my god—  _ I am never letting you drink again! _ You become the world’s biggest  _ dumbass _ !

“I’m sure we’ve all lost enough people. Done things we—…we wish we didn’t have to, but it’s like that now.  _ You know that. _ ”

You better have some masterful plan in mind to get us out of here, or so help me Davy Jones,  _ I _ will be your biggest problem.

“So let’s just chalk this up to what it was. Wrong place, wrong—”

The door window shattered above my head, raining glass over me.

Glenn and I both fell to the side, arms coming up to protect our heads.

Rick returned fire shouting, “Get outta here! Go!”

Glenn grabbed my arm, pulling me up as he ran after Hershel who was already moving; running for the doorway on the other side.

He let go when a bullet flew past us, and slid under a table next to the wall.

I dropped behind an overturned table near the middle and watched a bullet hit the frame right by Hershel’s head as he made it and took cover himself.

I pulled my piece, and as Rick sunk down, taking cover right by the door again, I came up and fired 3 shots outside; giving Hershel enough time to slide a shotgun across the floor to Glenn.

I glanced from Hershel to Glenn, to Rick to Tony’s body on the ground, and the blood splatter behind the counter, to the shattered windows at the entrance.

My skin prickled, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. It’s too quiet.

I whipped around at the sound of something behind knocked over behind the building; it sounded like a metal trash bin.

I locked eyes with Glenn before looking to Rick. He looked at Glenn & I and jerked his head towards that back door. The one tucked in the back corner I hadn’t seen before now.

Glenn moved forward and I joined him, keeping low as we made our way to the door.

I covered him as he peeled the door open a few inches, sticking the barrel of his shotgun through first, before looking around.

He crept in, and the old wood stairs creaked as he did so. I came into what looks like a cellar for storing alcohol behind him, stepping on the edges of the steps closest to the railing so they didn’t squeak.

Glenn moved through the room and I followed, setting my sights on a set of double doors off to the right.

That’s gotta lead outside, I can—

I raised my gun when a shadow moved across the window on the door. What is with this bar and windows in the doors?

Glenn raised his shotgun and the doorknob began to twist.

He fired before I did and the shotgun blast shattered the left window.

Silence followed, and I waited before moving forward. I didn’t hear anything hit the ground, nor any sounds of pain.

I don’t think we hit whoever was opening that door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, hop over and “buy me a coffee” on Ko-Fi! https://ko-fi.com/miimaas
> 
> For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an amazing website that makes it super easy for you to support people who create stuff. It's basically a tipping service so you can “buy a coffee” for someone who makes stuff you like.
> 
> Tips would be much appreciated, or just check out my profile. Drop a comment and say hi!


	63. Chapter 63

**Daryl’s POV**

The Hell are those idiots doin’? Drivin’ to Las Vegas?

I looked at the road again, stabbing my fire with a long branch.

How long does it take to drag one old fart back to his precious farm?

“We can’t find Lori.”

I glanced to my side as Carol came runnin’ up, outta breath.

Hmph, figures. I resisted the urge to scoff and turned back at my fire.

“And the others aren’t back yet either.”

“Yeah” I jabbed the stick farther under a log, trying to shift it deeper into the fire. “Dumb bitch must’ve gone off lookin’ for ‘em.”

“What?” Carol panted, like she can’t believe I’d say that but news flash honey, I didn’t ask to be in this group.

“Yeah, she asked me to go. Told ‘er I was done bein’ an errand boy.” I shifted my knee higher under my elbow.

“And you didn’t say anything?” Carol’s voice rose an octave.

I stabbed the fire again, waiting for her to say more, to see how she chews me out for it, but the silence dragged on.

My eyes dropped to my lap after a solid minute and she hadn’t said a word, but I can feel ‘er starin’ at me.

She started walking away but stopped and came back. “Don’t do this. Please.”

Do what?

“I’ve already lost my girl.”

I stood, gettin’ right in her face. “Yeah, that wasn’t my problem neither.”

I threw the stick to the ground, stomping to my tent. Apparently movin’ my campsite a quarter of a mile away from theirs ain’t far enough to get these people off my back.

They’re more troublesome than the swamp monster ‘erself.

Just cause  _ she’s  _ always gotta help when someone so much as needs a hand wipin’ their ass, doesn’t mean I gotta.

I ducked inside the fabric hut.

Why they all so worried, anyway? Eve went with those assholes. They’ll be fine.

That women may be the biggest trouble magnet I ever met, but she’ll make sure they get back. Even if she’s gotta drag ‘em.

It’s amazin’ she’s even made it this far in one piece, she’d take a bullet for anyone.

I froze. My fingers lingered on the inside zipper of my tent.

“ _ The others aren’t back yet either.” _

...

“She can take care of ‘erself. I ain’t ‘er babysitter.” I growled under my breath, yanking the zipper down to close.

I laid down, putting my arm behind my head and closed my eyes.

_ ‘My hold on Eve’s forearm slid to her wrist and her foot slipped. Her chest slammed against the root my foot was braced against, and she gasped; all of the air being forced from her lungs. _

_ Hoarse coughs erupted from her throat at the impact, and she began to slide down. _

_ Her arm started slipping out of my grip, and her hand gripped my arm live a vice but she was still sliding.’ _

I groaned, turning on my side. It ain’t my job to get her outta trouble.

_ “Thought I said I wouldn’t come save ur ass” I panted, glancing over the muddy raised root, into the 20 foot sinkhole. _

The Hell does that have to do with anything now? She got ‘erself into that mess, I had to drag her out.

Doesn’t mean I’mma do it again. If they’re stupid enough to get themselves killed, so be it.

I turned back over, pulling my knee up and laid my arm over my eyes.

_ ‘I watched Eve look around from the branches above, and point in the direction we need to go. _

_ I looked, finding a landmark to follow before nodding. I motioned for her to come down and jerked my head for the other’s to follow me. _

_ A gunshot rang out and I whipped around.  _

_ The tree shook and my attention shot to the black shape. Every muscle in my body tensed as the branch broke. _

_ “Eve!” I was running before I knew it; eyes fixed on her dropping like a stone in water. _

_ The sound when her back hit the ground, pulled my gut into my throat and sucked the air straight outta my chest.’ _

_ I sighed, letting my arm fall from my eyes. I ain’t gettin’ any sleep, if this keeps up. _

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

“Glenn! Eve!” Rick’s voice came from the main floor up the stairs behind us.

“W—We’re alright. We’re alright.” Glenn called back to the other room.

I moved at an angle towards the door, gun raised. We didn’t hit anyone, which means they could be waiting for us out there now.

I got close enough to the door to see into the alleyway. That is not a lot of space to work with. It’s maybe 20 feet wide. There are some dumpsters not too far off the right.

I don’t see anyone out there, not even any blood. So I was right, we didn’t hit them. They could be behind those dumpsters, or they could’ve run back down the alley.

I exhaled through my nose, gritting my teeth.

We’ve gotta risk it. We don’t have a choice, unless we’d rather stay here, trapped like rats until all this gunfire attracts every walker for miles right to the doorstep.

We’re already pushing it, and look what happened last time we overstayed our welcome.

I saw Hershel coming up behind me in a reflection and turned but as soon as I did, he stepped on a creaky floorboard and Glenn whirled around gun first.

My heart lurched in my chest for a moment I was afraid Glenn was gonna pull the trigger; as Hershel put his hands up but Glenn relaxed. Thank goodness he doesn’t shoot first, ask questions later.

Hershel carefully pushed the barrel away from him, aiming it at the floor to his left, away from all of us.

“Rick wants you to try for the car.”

Glenn & I exchanged looks before looking at Hershel.

“Try?” Glenn’s incredulous tone speaks well enough for the both of us.

“You’ll try, and succeed.” Hershel nodded pointedly. “I’ll cover you.”

An old drunk man with a loaded weapon watchin’ our backs. Oh this is gonna end well.  _ Lovely. _

“That’s a great plan” Glenn’s sarcasm was undercut by his shook tone.

I sighed, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose, and tapped Glenn’s arm.

On a better day, I’d argue for a more sound strategy but we don’t have the time, the resources, or any other choice right now.

I gave Ace a look we both know all too well at this point, the look of, ‘Let’s just get this over with’.

He exhaled, puffing out his cheeks and nodded.

Someday, me & him won’t be the only ones sticking our necks out anytime somethin’ ridiculously dangerous needs gettin’ done.

We’ll be pulled back to the last line of defense, to be whipped out for only really important moves that require speed, fast reflexes, stealth, an instinct to run, and a quick clever mind.

I’m just holding out for that day.

Alright, enough whining. It’s go time.

I went to the doors and as soon as Glenn pushed them open, I peeked out, scanning both directions.

This alley isn’t big but it ain’t small. It’s maybe 40-50 feet to either end. 10-12 feet across and the opposite side of the building is protected by a high sheet metal fencing of some sort.

Nothin’ jumps out at me right off the bat, aside from some possible cover about 20-25 feet to the right.

Whoever was back here could be hiding behind those dumpsters.

I nudged Glenn on my right and nodded to the bins. He looked, and took as steady a breath as he’ll manage right now, raising his shotgun.

One slow step at a time, he crept into the alleyway. I stepped out just after, gun raised and watching the left end behind us. While Hershel covered us from the doors.

I followed down the filthy paved alley, keeping my step light, and glancing over my shoulder every so often so I don’t walk into Glenn, or get left behind.

It’s too quiet. I don’t hear any gunfire, not even from the front of the bar where Rick should be.

My eyes scanned the trees and bushes, and various hiding places at the end of the alley, watching for the slightest peak of a gunbarrel, person acquiring their targets, or the most concerning: walkers.

Dealing with walkers on top of these assholes would not go down well; other than using them as meat shields against a hail of gunfire, and possibly scaring the enemy into fleeing.

This reminds me of Atlanta; tryna get that damn bag a guns. Only we don’t have a safety net waitin’ in some alley with a crossbow ready, this time.

If only Daryl were here.

We could really use his eyes, and another stealth killer right about now.

We neared the dumpsters and I glanced away for half a second; Half a second too soon.

Pain exploded in my shoulder as the shot rang out, and I was spinning towards the ground before my brain even caught up to what was happening.


	64. Chapter 64

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you read, hop over and “buy me a coffee” on Ko-Fi! https://ko-fi.com/miimaas
> 
> For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an amazing website that makes it super easy for you to support people who create stuff. It's basically a tipping service so you can “buy a coffee” for someone who makes stuff you like.
> 
> Tips would be much appreciated, or just check out my profile. Drop a comment and say hi!

Out of instinct my hands shot out to absorb as much impact as possible but the moment my palms made contact, my right shoulder seared with pain and it buckled.

My stomach hit the ground with the full force of my bodyweight, the air escaping my lungs like a popped balloon.

I had a rush of deja vu, feeling the repercussions from my tumble from the tree whiplash back to the surface.

I couldn’t breathe for the longest minute of my life; feeling my ribs burning with ache, like they had then.

Another shot rang out and my immediate instinct was to freeze. To stay as still as possible, even though my entire torso wants me to curl in on myself and cradle my ribcage on the ground of a dirty alleyway like a child.

I can’t get to cover like this before I get shot again, this time fatally.

My eyes locked with Glenn’s behind the dumpster and before he could move I curled all but one of my fingers on the ground next to my head.

Hissing, “Stay.” as subtle as I could manage.

He bit his lips, swallowing with a tense nod. He looks like he wants nothing more than to jump out and grab me, but that will get him  _ killed. _

My gun is still in hand, if they come investigate their “kill” I can pop ‘em before they notice. If they think one or both of us are dead, it’ll be easier to catch them off guard.

The blood is thrumming in my ears and the pain, is making it difficult to concentrate on my breathing, but I can hear moaning. It doesn’t sound like walker moans, but I can’t tell who it is; please for the love of polka dot sprinkles, don’t be Hershel. If both of us got hit, we’re in serious trouble.

I heard the door creak, and my grip tightened on my piece. My core muscles tightened, getting ready to fling myself over at a moment’s notice. The pain intensified around the muscles but the adrenaline flooding my system pushed it to the background just enough.

“ _ You hit? _ ” Rick’s voice, made me flinch and I almost went through with my plan to shoot whoever came to investigate.

My jolt made my shoulder sear, bringing it back to the foreground of my attention.

Finally nodding in response. I ground my teeth as I peeked over my shoulder, watching the deputy move along the wall; two guns aimed in both directions.

I’m glad he grabbed Tony’s shotgun, but firing that beast with one hand is gonna send it kicking back into your skull. Knocking yourself out is the last thing we need right now.

“Are you hit?” Rick came closer, trying to see behind the dumpster where Glenn is sitting.

“No. No.” Glenn shook his head, eyes fixed on me but not my face.

I followed his line of sight to the blood on the blood pooling on the ground underneath my shoulder.

Rick crouched beside me, and I felt his hands on my sides, helping as I forced myself to my knees.

Rick pulled me towards the dumpster but I could only crawl on one arm, my gun clacking against the pavement as we took cover.

I sat next to Glenn, dropping the deadly weight in my lap; focusing more effort on my breathing than anything else.

I pulled my shoulder in front of me, trying to look through my torn jacket to find out how bad it was. Even in the dark I can see it. I don’t know if that should worry me more or not but for now, I don’t care.

Blood pulsed from the centimeter deep impacted gash in the outer side of my shoulder. The flesh splayed outwards from the path of the bullet, a dark red. Some of it almost black.

My entire shoulder inflamed, blazing an angry red and the throb pulsed like a concert speaker with the bass at max volume.

I gripped my elbow, gritting my teeth. I can feel the blood streaming down my arm under my sleeve.

“How bad?”

I looked at Rick and mustered an ok sign, taking my gun from my lap. I rested my forearm over my abdomen, trying to give my shoulder as much lax as I could get away with.

My attention directed to Glenn breathing heavy beside me. Our shoulders are close enough I can feel him shaking though it doesn’t look like he is.

It’s been awhile since we’ve been this close to the line. It’s understandable he’s shaken. I am having all the deja vu tonight, this reminds me of the night we met.

“It’s alright. The car’s right there.” Rick reassured Glenn, having caught on.

“Okay.” Glenn nodded, trying to swallow his nerves from the looks of it. He’s gonna panic at this rate.

I grabbed Glenn’s arm, breathing in through my nose, expelling through my mouth.

“We’re almost home.” Rick kept looking around. “You good?”

Glenn copied my breathing in rapid succession until he fell into a solid pace; a fast pace, but steady.

“I’m good.” he nodded stiffly.

I nodded myself, rolling up on my feet into a crouch.

Rick gave a firm nod, readying himself. “Let’s go.”

Wait where’s Hershel?

Rick moved to make a run for the car on the street barely 60 feet from us, and a shot pierced the dumpster next to him.

“Get back!” He jumped backwards, fixing his eyes on the roof opposite the bar.

Glenn stumbled back into me. I sucked in a sharp breath as my shoulder jostled.

“Are you okay?” Glenn panicked but I was quick to wave him off.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” I squeezed the gun in my hand, trying to wean the pain out of the forefront of my mind.

Tires squealed from the street and my head snapped up as a big heavy-duty pickup truck stopped in front of the building; between us and our escape vehicle.

“Let’s get outta here!” I recognize the man in the driver’s seat, shouting from his window.

“Roamers are all over the place! Hurry up! We gotta get outta here!” He’s the one who was doing the talking earlier.

“What about Shawn?” the young guy called from the roof.

“They shot him. We gotta go! Roamers are everywhere.” the man called again, his urgency increasing by the syllable. That must’ve been the second shot I heard then.

“We’re leavin’?”

“Jump!”

From that height!? He’ll never make that.

The kid went to the side of the roof, glancing back at his friend in the truck.

“Hurry up! Jump already!” the impatient man yelled at the kid.

My stomach lurched as he jumped to the next roof; easily a 20 foot drop.

I heard the impact from  _ here _ , and watched him roll before he tumbled off the ledge outta my line of sight. Not a second later a scream pierced the stilled cold air with a sharp clang.

“Dude didn’t make it” Glenn breathed, looking at the ground in front of us.

“Ahhh! Help! Help me!”

“I gotta go! I’m sorry!” I watched the truck move, leaving the kid behind while he screamed for help.

“No! No— don’t leave!”

Rick looked back at me and I sighed, already knowing what’s running through his head.

Sometimes I wonder if your sense of honor is over inflated, Grimes. But in this instance, I happen to be thinking the same.

We need to get outta here as fast as possible, but even I’m not so cold hearted as to leave some kid to be ripped apart by blunt grinding teeth; still screaming.

“Get Hershel.” Rick all but ordered Glenn as I got up, heading for the end of the alley.

The walker growls and moans are getting louder and louder but I don’t see any on the street yet. That won’t be the case for long.

Let’s move quick.

Rick came up and we both ran across the street, still crouched, to the other alley.

A leg atop a dumpster came into view just before I rounded the corner and there was the kid. He can’t be more than 19 or 20; laying on top of a thankfully filled trash bin, with 6 inches of an arrowhead fence through his calf.

“Aaaah” the kid was all but screaming, clutching his knee.

“Keep your voice down” Rick snapped as soon as we reached him.

I walked down the alley about 12 feet, checking for walkers but it opens up back here.

We’re too exposed. We gotta move, now.

“Help me, please” the kid begged, crying from the pain.

My ribs ached with the increasing tension his loud cries are assaulting my instincts with.

“Rick!” Hershel & Glenn came up behind Rick. “We have to go now.”

“No!” The kid cried and my head was on a swivel to see if he’s been heard; an ache blooming in my neck from it.

“Shh!” Rick hissed.

As much as I agree, we can’t just leave him here.

“I’m sorry son, we have to go.” Hershel put his hand on the kid’s uninjured knee, dangling off the edge of the dumpster.

“No no, don’t leave me please.” he pleaded, desperation and fear prominent in every atom of his being.

“We have to go.” Hershel persisted, trying to get Rick to leave.

“We can’t.” Rick pulled his stale-mating moral-compass voice.

“He was just shooting at us!” Glenn jabbed his hand at the kid.

“ _ He’s a kid. _ ” Rick snapped.

_ Ugh— princesses!  _ We don’t have time for this!  _ Make a decision or I will act without you. _

“This place is crawling with walkers!” Glenn shouted and my attention snapped to him.

What the Hell’s gotten into him— that doesn’t sound like the Glenn I know; the kid who would risk his life for someone he doesn’t even know.

“We can’t leave him!” Rick growled matter of factly. He’s not going anywhere without this kid, and we all know it. Frankly, I’m not going anywhere either.

He may have been shooting at us but I won’t leave him like this. Even if it means putting him out of his misery.

“ _ Fear is not a reason to leave someone for dead. _ ” Stone cold fury pumped through my veins, bleeding into the gaze I fixed on three of the most morally grounded grown-ass men I know.

“The fence went clean through.” Hershel looked at the kid’s leg with the expertise none of the rest of us have. “There’s no way we can get the leg off in one piece.”

The fence rattled as it shook with his trembling shredded leg, and I grabbed it to silence the noise.

“Shut up, or I will shoot you.”

_ Rick, _ that is not helping!

“That may be the answer.” Hershel pulled Rick aside onto the sidewalk.

Glenn stepped next to me, and I moved to check the end of the alley again.

My mind’s expecting a nasty surprise any moment like you do when you watch a horror movie or play a scary video game; waiting for the jump scare.

Just because there’s nothing right now, doesn’t mean there won’t be soon.

“Shut up. Shut up” Glenn grabbed the kid’s leg and the boy yelled again.

“I’m sorry.” Glenn let go, backing off. “Sh-sh— shut up.”

I came back, snatching the kid’s arm to stop him from banging on the dumpster.

“I don’t wanna see anymore killin’ but this is cruel.” Hershel gestured at the kid.

“Can’t we just take the leg off?” Glenn suggested. 

All conversation stopped, even the kid’s screaming stopped, and Rick’s eyes met mine for half a second before I looked at the leg and at the kid and back to Rick.

Rick looked back at Glenn, and I could see the exact moment he made the decision. “That hatchet still in the car?”

“No” Glenn answered.

Now this sounds more like you, Ace; but something’s still off. I can see it just by looking at him.

“No no no. Don’t— don’t cut my leg off, please.” The kid reached forward, desperate.

“Will this cut through the bone?” Rick pulled his switchblade.

God no— we don’t have time to use that wood carver.

“Use mine.” I pulled the blade with a  _ ‘shing’ _ from it’s sheath at my thigh, and held it handle first to Hershel.

“I’ll have to sever the ligaments below the knee cap, cut above the tibia. He’s gonna lose his lower leg.” While Hershel explained/instructed what he was gonna do, the kid kept repeating ‘No’ over and over but thank Merlin’s goat he’s not screaming.

“When we get clear of here, we’ll have to find some tinder, cauterize the wound so he doesn’t bleed out.” Hershel whipped off his dress shirt.

“Alright, no choice. Hurry up.” Rick came back over to me.

“Oh god, oh god.” The kid cried.

I tossed my gun onto the dumpster above the kids head and pulled my belt off, climbing up with my one good arm while Rick slammed the kid down by the chest so he was laid flat.

“Hand me that stick” Hershel instructed Glenn, doing something with his pristine white dress shirt.

I folded my belt, sticking it into the kid’s mouth. “ _ Bite. _ ”

I grabbed his flailing hand with mine, and already he’s squeezing like his life depends on it. It’s distracting from my own pain, at least.

“Here here” Glenn handed the vet his stick and I watched Hershel get up on the fence and tie the garment around the kid’s upper thigh; using the stick to wind it as tight as possible.

“Guys, walkers” Glenn’s rising panic came from the otherside of Hershel, on the street where I can barely see his back from my position.

The kid screamed, releasing my hand and I slammed it over his mouth.

“Shut up” Rick commanded, like it’s gonna work. We’re about to remove the kid’s leg.

I heard Glenn’s shotgun blast and glanced, but kept on task helping Hershel.

“Oh God they’re everywhere.” Rick went towards the back end of the alley, firing.

“Hold this, keep it tight.” I did as Hershel told and removed my hand from the kid’s mouth, putting my knee on his chest to keep him down now that Rick’s gone.

“Hershel, how we doin’ over there?” Rick’s urgent request came between rounds of fire.

“I need more hands” Hershel fought with the kid’s pants, trying to keep the gate still, and ten other things.

Even with 4(more like 3 1/2) hands we’re still short. The two of us, even together, can only do so much with what we’ve got.

“I’m almost outta ammo!” Rick called back.

I grabbed my piece from the dumpster and whistled, throwing it to him as soon as his eyes landed on me.

The chaos around me is almost too much. It feels like a warzone.

Growls, moans, swarms of walkers headed this way from both directions, Rick & Glenn both shouting at us, the kid trying to scream around my belt, Hershel trying his damndest to solo what would take a team of EMT’s to do, with a clock that could run out at any second.

“We don’t have much time!”

“Come on, we’ve gotta go!” Glenn’s frantic shouting finally drew Rick back towards us.

“We can’t hold ‘em off! Hershel, do it now!” He came back to the side of the dumpster. “Come on, Hershel!”

“There’s no time!” Hershel shouted back at him. I can see Hershel’s hands shaking, god damnit why did he have to be drinking before this.

“Hershel, come on!” Glenn shouted.

It’s too late. If we stay any longer, all 5 of us are gonna have our strings cut.

Hershel jumped down, giving into Glenn’s shouting, and I jumped off the dumpster, landing right beside Rick.

“Please don’t leave me! Please! Please don’t leave me!” The kid grabbed my jacket, shouting at us— pleading.

Rick stopped at the fence, next to his leg and looked at me.

I glanced at the leg, picking up on what he was about to do, and nodded.

I grabbed my fallen belt and shoved it back into the kid’s mouth, almost making him choke on his own screams, as Rick grabbed the underside of his leg.

I braced myself, holding the kid down as best I could with one arm and watched Rick push his leg upwards with all his might.

_ “AHHHHHHH!” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	65. Chapter 65

The scream tore from the kid’s lips right in my ear, leaving my eardrum ringing. I slammed my hands over his mouth but his scream was still too loud for me smother.

I shot a desperate look at Rick before I reeled my fist back.

One shot to the side of the head and the kid was out.

I shook out my aching fist, taking my piece from Rick, and covered him while he pulled the kid off the dumpster and threw him over his shoulder.

As soon as Rick was on his way, I followed him, walking backwards until I reached the street and booked it to the car.

I jumped into the back seat just as Rick finished piling the kid in, and shoved the kid’s legs outta the way, slamming the door while Rick slammed the driver’s side and put the pedal to the floor.

* * *

**Daryl’s POV**

I stared at the roof of my tent for what felt like hours, before I finally sat up and started pickin’ at my crossbow.

It’s gon’ be sunrise soon.

I heard footsteps and peeked outside, unzipping the tent.

Carol? The Hell she doin’ back ‘ere?

I left my tent, going up behind her while she was looking at my ear-necklace hanging next to my most recent kills strung between two trees.

A twig snapped when I was right behind her, and she whirled around. “What’re you doin’?”

She jolted seeing me right behind ‘er. “Keepin’ an eye on you.”

“Ain’t you a peach.” I circled around her.

“I’m not gonna let you pull away. You’ve earned your place.”

“If you spent half your time mindin’ your daughter’s business instead of stickin’ your nose into everybody else’s, she’d still be alive!”

Carol took half a step back, as I got closer.

I moved back, and she swallowed.

“Go ahead.”

What?

The Hell is she talking about?

“Go ahead and what?” I growled, stepping closer again.

She didn’t move, or say nothing. Just stood there, starin’ at me.

“Just go! I don’t want you here.” I swung my arm, moving to go back to my tent but she didn’t move; didn’t so much as blink.

God, it’s almost like lookin’ at Eve.

“You’re a real piece a work, lady.” I jabbed my finger at her, stepping closer again.

“What, are you gonna make this about my daddy or some crap like that?” I moved back again, scoffing. “Pfft, man. You don’t know Jack”

The Hell is she doin’ just starin at me like that? Like she thinks it’ll accomplish somethin’ and what was that crap about me not lettin’ me pull away?

I know what she’s doin’. She’s tryna pull the same crap Eve does. Just standin’ there takin’ everybody’s shit but you ain’t Eve! That woman can pull shit like this cause she can handle ‘erself.

You wanna walk in that woman’s shoes? Fine. This oughta get rid of you, then.

“You’re afraid. You’re afraid cause your all alone. You got no husband, no daughter. You don’t know what to do with yourself.”

“You ain’t my problem! Sophia wasn’t mine!” I moved towards her again.

“All you had to do was just keep an eye on ‘er!” I stepped closer again.

Carol flinched back and I stopped. My gut tightened as I stepped back, seein’ echoes of that flinch; Recognizin’ it.

...She thought I was gon’ hit her.

Carol released a breath I didn’t know she was holding, and I watched her take another one; trembling for a second before it was gone again.

My jaw tightened, remembering seein’ it at the quarry. When ‘her husband used to...

“Just go.” I stalked off back to my tent.

* * *

**3rd person POV**

Eve rubbed her forehead with her fingers, sighing. ‘_ This has gotten way more complicated than it needed to. These last few days— no since we _ got _ onto that stupid highway, it’s been one thing after another. _’

‘_ People making big deals out of nothing, and in reverse, big deals faded into the background like they weren’t issues. Freaking out over what happened, and not bothering to look deeper into _ why _ they did. _’

She watched the dark slowly lightening scenery whooshing by outside the vehicle’s cabin as it flew down the street.

Less than a mile has never felt so far before, and she decided. ‘It’s time to put a stop to this over-dramatic bullshit. If you’re gonna act like children, that’s how I’m gonna treat you. Starting with these three.’

“Pull over.”

‘_ It’s time to pay the piper, _ kiddies _ . _’

Rick glanced in the rear view, meeting a hard scowl and although confused, he’s known her long enough to know she doesn’t speak without reason. So he did as told.

Parking in the middle of the deserted road, surrounded by open fields, gave some solace about being attacked. However confusion was churning like butter in the atmosphere.

Everyone piled out of the vehicle, and stood on the side of the road in a row before Evelyn Rider.

They already knew she had something to say, despite the calm exterior that was actually giving Glenn chills and whatever it is, it doesn’t bode well for them.

“I’m disappointed in you.” Her voice cut that churned butter like the trusted knives sheathed at her sides.

The men glanced between each other, baffled and already somewhat worried about where this is headed.

“Out of everyone in the group, you are the last people who get to lose your heads.”

“What are you talkin’ about?” Rick took half a step forward, shifting his weight to one leg.

They all would’ve been reluctant to admit, they flinched in the next moment, when Eve’s eerie calm snapped to cold fury in a split second.

_ “You don't get to decide to forsake a life whenever you feel like it, or to save your own skins. _”

A powerful urge pulled at all three of their backs, to step away from her but whether it was through pride, confusion, or pure stubbornness, they couldn’t.

“I would've expected this from Shane, or Merle, or even a fair number of the others but _ not from you three _.”

Glenn shrunk in on himself a little, feeling far too much like a teenager being scolded by his parents than he’s comfortable with.

Hershel — still a little on the tipsy side — simply blinked; startled and having some trouble processing. Even after the sobering events of the night.

Eve sighed, her weight shifting to one leg and let her hands rest on the hilts of her knives, as they were at the perfect height for it. It didn’t come off as threatening. A little more casual than ‘mom’s hands on hips’, but perhaps that’s only because they know her.

“It's okay to be scared out of your wits, and to not know what the right thing to do is, but letting fear control your actions is not something I will stand for when the fate of everyone I know & care about lies in your hands. Your decisions affect all of us, even when we're not close by.”

Guilt pricked all the men standing before her.

Being reminded of their responsibilities after a long rough night that nearly cost all of them their lives, made their tense shoulders drop.

Eve’s flaming irises could almost see the weights dragging them down.

Under other circumstances, Eve would have eased up on them at this point; knowing the added pressure wouldn’t help. However, this is not one of those times.

They can’t afford that luxury anymore, and tonight they’ve shown her she’s given them far too much liberty with it.

She trusted them to make sound calls, and apparently that was a mistake.

It’s time they learn this lesson. The hard way. Before they do something that gets someone killed.

“_ This _ will _ never _ happen again or by the devil's hand, _ I will give you something to fear _. Do I make myself clear.”

Glenn cast his eyes to the ground, an ashamed nod being all the response he could muster.

He knew this was directed more at Rick & Hershel but it twisted his gut. Every word.

Eve is right. She’s always right. The very fact she is _ speaking— _that she felt the need to, means something wasn’t right.

When he saw her get shot… when he looked back at watched her hit the ground, he just… He froze.

The only thing that went through his mind was Maggie. How devastated she’d be if it had been him and not Eve.

He wanted to pull her to safety but if she hadn’t told him to stay put(more or less), he doesn’t think he would’ve been able to.

It scares him.

To think he would’ve left his best friend to die, because he was afraid of Maggie losing him.

Rick has stared down all kinds of people before. He’s looked into the eyes of innocents, killers, criminals, and held his ground; not wavered for a single moment. But as he stared into the burning embers of amber eyes, he couldn’t do it.

His eyes directed to the pavement before the thought had even crossed his mind.

Evelyn Rider is no doubt one of the most formidable people he has ever met. He’s seen the woman take on Dixon’s without breakin’ a sweat. He’s seen this soul-chilling gaze before, but he hadn’t ever thought to imagine the day when those eyes were turned on him.

If she voiced this warning, she will do it. This is not a slap on the wrist.

Eve was furious. It’s amazing she’s been able to uphold her rational mind.

She’s just scolded grown-ass men like children, and the worst part? Is she had to do it at all.

This is not the first scolding she’s given to members of this group, unfortunately it won’t be the last either. Since she seems to be the only person around who can set her personal feelings aside and focus on solving the damn problem without making life 20 times harder in the process.

Hershel looked into the familiar unwavering eyes of a dangerously patient woman, who has reached the end of it.

The peeking sunlight cast over her shadowed face, scorching the amber spheres. Only to shine an unnerving light on the overlooked fact that almost nobody has any idea exactly what this silent killer is capable of.

Hershel is not one to take a warning shot lightly; especially a woman’s. His late wife Josephine made sure of that.

His gaze averted to the pavement beneath his shoes. Overwhelmed by the distinct feeling, she’s being merciful by warning them at all.

Eve waited until she was certain they’d gotten the message before heading to the car, and pulling the door open.

“Do not force my hand.”


	66. Chapter 66

**Eve’s POV**

I watched Glenn flinch as I slammed the door shut.

All of them made their way back into the vehicle. Rick and Hershel with the faces of moody children.

While Glenn seems truly guilty, climbing in and spending the next 20 minutes of the car ride glancing at the kid between us.

He helped me bind my shoulder until we get back and Hershel can stitch it. Lord am I not looking forward to that.

* * *

I grimaced at the kid beside me, catching Glenn’s sight as he looked up from the stranger as well.

He’s been out way longer than intended. I really didn’t think I hit him so hard but I’m starting to worry his head is softer than it looks...

I chewed on my lip, and pushed two fillanges against his neck.

My gut rolled over itself until the skin pounded underneath my tense fingertips.

I let loose a stunted breath in relief; scrubbing my hand over my neck.

He’s alive at least.

“He could wake up soon. We can’t have him seein’ where we’re headed.” Rick broke the silence.

“What do you suggest?” Glenn leaned forward a bit, looking between Hershel and Rick in the front seats.

“We could blindfold him.” Hershel suggested, glancing into the backseat.

With what? I mean, I guess we could use my belt, or that dirty rag by Glenn—…

I looked down, raising my shirt, searching my waist for the broad holed black belt that’s supposed to be securing my pants, but it wasn’t there.

Where the… Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

My hand came to my forehead, resting on the ridges of my brows; shadowing my closed eyes.

You have _ got to be kidding me. _

Of all the places— all the ways to lose something and of course, I leave my belt on a dumpster in the center of a walker-ridden town in the dead of night (pun not intended).

I sighed, watching Glenn tie the dirty rag around the kid’s eyes.

Dude’s gonna freak when he wakes up, but at least he still has a leg. And we didn’t leave him for the walkers.

All in all, I think he had a pretty lucky night.

I leaned back, watching out the window as I let my head roll against the seat.

My ribs are sore. Being repeatedly beaten up in less than a week can’t be good for recovery.

My shoulder is killing me with the sting, burning pain.

I’m starving. I can barely feel my throat it’s so dry. I can’t swallow for shit but my throat keeps trying to. And my eyes are heavy but I can’t sleep.

I keep thinking about all the ways this is gonna go wrong, how this could have gone wrong. What else could go wrong, because apparently we can’t get our shit together to stand for more than 20 minutes before something happens.

God, I dread to think how this is gonna go over with the group— with Officer hothead in particular.

Nobody’s gonna be too happy about this. From the tension in my car mate’s shoulders, they know it too.

This is gonna be a nightmare.

* * *

As soon as the car stopped, I all but dropped out the side. Stumbling onto my exhausted feet, my leg muscles weak like I went on a 10 mile run.

I spied Daryl almost as soon as I looked up. He was already coming towards me, looking me up and down.

“We were ‘bout to come find your dumbasses.”

I sighed, not even finding the energy to blow my sticky bangs off my forehead. I’m exhausted, cranky, and I just want to take a quiet nap in the sun, in the field, after a hot shower. And not be woken until next week, unless someone’s dying.

If I could wake up for five minutes and conk out again like that kid Randall(as we found out) in the car, that’d be great.

“The Hell happened to you?” Daryl’s brow knit together as he moved to look at my arm.

I shook my head, using my tongue to pull my dry lips into my mouth and try to restore a little moisture.

“Who the Hell is that?” T-Dog pointed at the car.

“That’s Randall.” Glenn answered, grimacing.

Daryl looked at me and I already know what he’s thinking. He doesn’t exactly like people. He can barely tolerate everyone in the group, much less some kid we’ve never met.

The last time we picked up some kid, Daryl dropped his brother’s severed hand in the poor guy’s lap.

I don’t envy Randall.

“Come on” Daryl tugged on my wrist, jerking his head towards the house.

I followed without question, focusing on not swaying as I went up the stairs.

Water first, everything else can come later.

* * *

I sat at the dining table, Daryl had his hand on my left shoulder, keeping me in my seat while Patricia took a needle the size of a spear and poked it through my skin.

If it weren’t Daryl’s almost painful grip on my shoulder, I do not care how tired my legs are, I would have been long gone the second she came in with the suture equipment.

I’m really trying not to think about it, and thank goodness the entire group assembled in one room is enough bitching to help.

I still tried to get away a few times though. Which is also when Beth came over to hold my hand.

“If you don’t want stitches, don’ get shot.”

Wonderful advice. Thank you, Daryl. I’ll be sure to remember that next time we’re under fire.

23.

23 stitches and she was finally done.

As soon as she was finished, I was outta that chair so fast it almost fell over.

I went for the door without even thinking, where I was blocked from running by Daryl. “Ey, ey. You ain’t done yet.”

God no. Damn you and your chest, Dixon. Move!

Maggie came over to bind my arm, while Daryl’s tight grip on my other elbow kept me from going anywhere.

When Patricia took the needles from the room, I felt much better and was able to calm down enough to stand there and let her finish; albeit ansty.

Shane was having his usual pissing fit, about the kid. He said something about getting him flowers and candy, but I’ve started tuning out 90% of what these people say. So only the weird bits catch my attention anymore.

Plus I feel like I’m about to pass out, and honestly don’t know what the Hell to attribute it to at this point.

Someone passed me a glass of water and I swear my jaw unhinged to down as much of it in one go as possible. Which was practically the entire glass.

I caught Daryl looking at me strangely and raised a brow, but he just shook his head.

Now that I can feel my throat, I might be able to squeeze another hour or so out of myself to play referee.

I should come up with a system to help the kids play with each other. Or maybe I should just let them tear each other apart for once.

I finally understand why parents always look so tired. I haven’t slept since yesterday.

I didn’t even realize I was beginning to lean, until my uninjured shoulder touched Daryl’s and all he did was look at me.

Maybe it’s just my state of energy deprivation, but he didn’t flinch or tense like usual.

I probably just didn’t notice considering I can’t even find the energy to stand up straight anymore.

I attempted to get off him, attempt being the key word, but I just couldn’t find the energy to care if we’re touching shoulders.

How are Rick and them even doing this still? My eyelids are pulling my entire head down with them.

Daryl shifted his weight to his other leg, providing better support for the both of us, and I gave up on trying to get outta his space. If he doesn’t mind, I don’t see why I should right now. I am barely staying on my feet as is.

I would have moved back to the chair but that’s where the needles were, and that ain’t happenin’.

When will this um…“adjourning” be over? I don’t say this often, but as much as I like listening to everyone and their uncle’s opinions, I have better things to do at the moment.

Like, stop the mass murder of my brain cells, and keep my body from going on strike for the next month.


	67. Chapter 67

Another ten minutes of “conversation” and I was fallin’ asleep on my feet. My eyes betrayed me a while ago, and have been letting my ears do all work since.

In the end, Rick finally declared we weren’t gonna do anything about it today.

Hallelujah

The kid’s gonna be off his feet for at least a week, according to Hershel.

Rick’s plan is to let him heal up, then take him out onto the road far from the farm, give him a canteen, and send him on his way.

I think it’s a solid plan, though I may not be in my right mind at the moment so I’m reserving judgement.

Shane’s been angry about us killing a bunch of their guys & taking one of them hostage, but what the Hell were we _ supposed _to do? Huh?

I _ guarantee _that if he had been there, he would have done much worse. Damn hypocrite.

Rick brought up a valid point in response though, I gotta give him props for that. Those guys left Randall for dead. As sad as it is, nobody is looking for this kid.

I understand why everyone is hesitant. Why they’re concerned; it’s wise caution. I myself am indecisive about the kid.

But the fact remains, he is on his own now.

His group likely thinks he’s dead, he doesn’t know where he is, or who he’s being held by. He’s severely injured, and even unconscious right now. He couldn’t run even if he wanted to.

Plus why would he run from the people who just saved his life —and _ didn’t _ leave him to be eaten alive when his own group— the people he trusted, left him to the walkers?

Pegged to a fence like a cocktail party snack.

Randall is completely at our mercy, and I don’t know why no one’s acknowledging that. I can’t be the only person here who sees that, can I?

Rick— or Hershel, should have at least should have had similar thoughts, right?

“‘ey” Daryl bumped me with his elbow to get my eyes open and jerked his head over his shoulder.

I licked my lips, finally mustering myself to carry my own weight again, and followed him out as the group began to disperse.

I was stumbling over my own boots every so often, and didn’t even notice I’m walking on autopilot.

I probably look like a walker right now, and doesn’t that just make your skin crawl.

Daryl stopped and I almost walked into him.

“Go sleep.” He pointed to what I now realize is my tent. 

I nodded without a second thought and I was there. Dropping my gear the second I practically tripped inside and collapsed on my sleeping bag.

* * *

**3rd Person POV**

Eve was out like a light the second she was on the ground. With her skin against the clean fabric, the stark contrast of filth was hard to miss.

She didn’t look that dirty when she was walking around, or even leaning on Daryl earlier, but it was blatantly obvious now.

Her skin is several shades darker in patches all over her face. A grimy glisten to her skin, dark tangled hair sprinkled with little bits of what looks like gravel webbed over & sticking to her neck, flakes of crusted blood all over her skin; especially her right hand knuckles.

Daryl went on his way back out to his campsite before someone called out to him from the porch.

He turned and spied Hershel coming down the steps with something in his hand. Something he recognized in an instant, Eve’s knife.

Daryl’s eyes narrowed on the old man. _ ‘The Hell does he got ‘er knife for?’ _

“Could you return this for me? I’d do it myself but I need to get back in there.”

Tonguing his molars, Daryl took the sleek blade; Unsure why he was agreeing to the task, when he had made it crystal clear he was done bein’ a gofer for these people.

If it wasn’t Eve’s he’d have told the old man to do it himself, but he was willing to do this one thing for the only person round ‘ere who doesn’t push their shit on him.

Hershel went back inside, and Daryl made a return trip to Eve’s tent.

This thing is heavier than it looks but it didn’t feel weighed down. The handle is a nice weight in his palm, balancing the blade out. He’s seen Eve strike with these things, her precision is hard to miss.

_ ‘Where’d she get these anyway?’ _ he turned the blade over in his hand, glancing up to watch where he’s going as he got within the camp.

Eve doesn’t strike him as the type to have something like this made special. Which you’d have to, for quality and craftsmanship like this. They don’t sell these kind of knives just anywhere.

They’re not meant to sit on a shelf, these things are meant to be used with how sharp they are. She keeps ‘em sharp too. Hell he practically never sees her without them, or without ‘em close by.

Why would Hershel have it? It’s not like he can use it like she could. Surely they’d be better off having Eve use both, than giving one to Hershel even if he didn’t have a weapon.

Lowering the blade as he came up on his destination, Daryl stepped one foot inside her open tent, sliding the knife into its sheath just inside the door.

Eve shifted when he did so; muttering. And if he snorted at that moment, no one would ever know.

Why did he snort?

Because, from the long winded sentence that spilled from her normally quiet pie-hole, he only caught ‘mayonnaise’ ‘baby legs’ and ‘watermelon’.

Daryl walked away, shaking his head. Clearing his throat to wipe the smile off his face, and started off on his trek back out to his campsite.

* * *

Eve shot up from her sleeping bag, her breaths coming fast & sharp as her hand shot to her shoulder and she flinched as the stitches pulled in her other at the motion.

Her eyes darted around, fixing on the open tent door, and grabbing her knife without even thinking.

The edge shone in the moonlight as it laid down her arm in the ever ready position to slash, stab, or flip & throw.

Beads of sweat stung her skin like icy drops and she waited.

Silence in the night wind was the only thing that greeted her for the long minutes she sat there at the ready.

Her hand gripped tight around her knife. Swallowing around her parched throat with her steadily decreasing pants.

She dropped her knife finally, forcing her shaky breaths through her nose at last, she fisted the sleeping bag she was on top of.

The moon was bright tonight, or maybe it was just her eyes adjusted well to the dark in a fit of adrenaline, but she could clearly see that she was alone. Too clearly.

She scrubbed a hand over his forehead, wiping the clammy sweat from it and pulled her knees up to lay her elbows over.

She’s still wearing her shoes. Which she just dragged a streak of dirt over her sleeping bag. Great.

Wiping her hand off on her jeans, she grabbed her bag and peeled her sweaty, grimy ass day clothes from her skin in exchange for her looser but still running friendly night clothes; In other words, workout sweats.

It was difficult to work around wounds and tired muscles but she managed.

She rubbed her eye with her palm before realizing there was something dry and sticky on it that flaked off.

Sighing, she stood up, shifting around in her bag for a wash cloth before —in a rare instance— pulling her gear on over her difficult nightwear.

The reason she doesn’t usually wear it over these is because it’s more difficult to secure it around loose clothes than her more streamline day stuff.

She doesn’t wear fit jeans and wide strap tank tops(or a simple black shirt) for fashion. They’re functional.

So wearing this with her gear felt odd and she kept adjusting it, even though it was on correctly.

She looked at her gun sitting on the ground, waiting to be picked up but she could only stare.

Her mouth dried, and her stomach rolled staring at it.

Noticing the shake in her hand as her fingertips brushed her thigh, she turned away quickly; leaving her tent without looking back.

It’s not smart to wander around in the dead of night without her gun, but it’s plain stupid to take it with her as she is now.

Besides, they’re not supposed to be carrying guns on the property anyway, right?


	68. Chapter 68

**Eve’s POV**

Before I knew it, I was running towards the well, away from camp.

My muscles cried but everything else told me to go faster. My head, the prickle of every hair on the back of my neck. The paranoia even though I knew it was paranoia. The incessant feeling of being chased— all of it.

All of it pushed me faster & faster until I was panting a storm and came to a skidding halt at the well, kicking up dust in my wake that was swept by the wind and carried to be dispersed over the wide open fields, with grass too tall for my liking.

My eyes constantly moved. My head was on a swivel as I collected water, soaking it up into the cloth, and cleaned the blood from my skin like it was burning me.

I finally slowed down when my skin wasn’t noticeably red anymore; though from the sting I probably scrubbed a good two layers off and it’s almost undoubtedly an angry red. But red of a different sort I can handle over its predecessor.

I checked my throbbing shoulder but the bandage is still white, so it isn’t bleeding. That means the stitches are intact; Thank Merlin’s magical overalls.

I wiped the cloth over my skin, dipping it in the bucket a few times as I cleaned the blood and perspiration from my dirty skin.

Part of me wanted a shower, a stronger part wanted to be as far as possible from the house.

I have to calm down.

This place is okay. I can handle anything that pops up out here. It’s alright. Breathe.

I won’t be able to sleep like this, even if I go back.

Perimeter check?

I nodded to myself, and draped the cold damp cloth around my neck.

This time I started running with proper form, and kept a steady pace, still checking my surroundings in a constant sweep; like a sentry.

* * *

I ran a lap all the way around without seeing anything, and running put my mind at rest enough that I stopped feeling like I was being watched about halfway through.

Until I was coming back on the final length and stopped to breath, seeing an orangish light.

Daryl’s camp is over there.

He isn’t still awake is he?

My feet carried me that way before I fully made the decision and another short minute or so run later, I was slowing down at the edge of his campsite.

I was right. He is still awake.

He looked up from the fire he was staring at and I saw his hand go for his crossbow the next second.

My hands came up instinctively, in surrender and he relaxed; fully seeing me.

He shook his head, releasing a breath. “One a these days, ur gonna end up with a bolt between the eyes.”

Yeah… I don’t have any room to argue there. It’s probably a matter of when, not if. And it’d probably be my own damn fault.

His eyes flickered over me, and I watched his shoulders tense so much it straightened his spine.

“Did somethin’ happen?”

I glanced around before shaking my head; not entirely sure if he means ‘something’ like the camp is under attack, or someone died, or ‘something’ as in… yeah let’s not go there again. I just got away, I’d like to keep it that way for a little while at least.

Daryl looked at me and I had the strangest sense of being able to read his mind. He doesn’t think I’m telling the truth but also looks like knows I’m not lying.

It would be Hella creepy(and maybe, like, sorta cool) if that’s actually what he’s thinking but I’m not gonna chance finding out, because that would require cluing him in on my train of thought.

“Then why you runnin?”

I opened my mouth, just to psyche him out by blowing air out, and wiping the sweat off my brow with my towel. Hey that rhymes.

He gave me a dead-panned ‘really’ look. Sheesh, I gotta stop inadvertently teaching him my ways or it really will be like reading each other’s minds.

Don’t get me wrong, that’s useful in a lot of aspects, but obviously not for hiding what’s on your mind. If this is gonna be a two way street though, I petition we call it ‘Eve speak’.

I shrugged, waving my hand as I walked over. “It’s relaxing.”

He scooched without fuss, and I plopped myself on the log next to him, leaning over to let my elbows rest on my knees.

“She speaks.” Daryl mocked, stoking the fire with the long stick in his hand.

I shoved him with my elbow, the corner of my lip quirking up, but he was looking at me now. The same way he does when he’s studying someone’s expression.

I wonder if he knows he does that. I’m gonna guess no; either that or I’m the only person who’s noticed that face isn’t just a blank stare.

I admit, the subtle differences between his contemplative faces are tricky. I wouldn’t be surprised if no one else has noticed. He’s not exactly an open book. Took me forever to figure them out, and I still can’t tell what he’s thinking— Hell I still mistake ‘em for something different every once in awhile.

“The Hell you awake for anyway? Shouldn’t you be unconscious or somethin’?”

My eyebrows furrowed, one side dipping lower than the other with the slight opening of my jaw. Why would I be unconscious? 

“Ya didn’t sleep yesterday. Spent all night runnin’ round town like a buncha headless chickens.”

Eve speak strikes again.

You know, there’s something about just watching a fire that brings peace of mind. You can sit and turn off your brain for a while without actually turning it off.

Daryl took my silence as a cue and shifted, taking his gaze back to the burning wood.

“Thought about going after ya.”

I looked over to meet his eyes.

“Thought bout where you'd go and shit, if ya weren't at the bar.” He averted his gaze from mine but not off of me for another second.

“Why didn’t you?”

I watched him pick something off the stick and tossed it at the fire.

He was quiet for a long moment before shrugging. “Thought you could handle yerself.”

“I can.”

He looked at me.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t need someone there. Or that I can’t get unlucky.” I lifted my shoulder a bit, glancing at the bandage wrapped around my arm.

He looked down between us, like he was thinking about something bitter-sweet and muttered gruffly, “...I know” 

There was a long pass of silence, but it’s eating me. Which is an uncomfortable feeling in and of itself.

I’m not used to silence making me uncomfortable, but it feels like he’s got something else to say and isn’t saying it.

Is there a moon-walking bear I’ve missed somewhere in here?

“Ya don't always gotta help, ya know. They can take care a themselves.”

“I know.” A deep exhale passed through my nose as the ache in my legs began stretching to the forefront of my mind. My hand slid down my calf, rubbing it.

“Why do you?” Daryl’s face portrayed the most unmasked curiosity I've ever seen on him.

“Why don’t you?” I countered.

“I ain’t no babysitter” he scoffed, pushing a log back into the flames; sending cinders into the air in a flurry of tiny red fireflies, vanishing as quickly as they came.

My face pinched towards my nose in mostly confusion but also somewhat disbelief. “You think it’s babysitting to watch someone’s back?”

“...” Daryl glanced at me but remained silent. Eve speak pings that as a yes. At the very least it isn’t a no, or he would’ve said so.

“Does that mean you think I’ve been babysitting you?”

“No. I don’t need no babysitter.” He raised his far leg up, propping it on a smaller log in front of him, so his knee was closer to his chest and he could rest his arm over it.

“Why do you think it’s babysitting when it’s someone else, then?”

“Cause we’re always pullin’ them outta shit they got themselves into. All of ‘em actin’ like we’re a goddamn safety net. Like we can’t get lynched or some shit.” Daryl stabbed his stick into the ashes built up underneath the fire, his core tightening and sending a visible cascade of tension through the rest of his muscles. In his neck, especially when he gets angry.

“That’s what a group is for, Daryl.”

He looked at me, jaw clenched.

“Being together is what makes us strong. We don’t abandon one another when we’re being crushed. We share the load. Some of us are stronger than others right now. We may need to take more, and it sucks ass, but there will always be times you just have to grit your teeth and dig in.”

“I’d rather have even just one other person there with me, than try to take it alone. Wouldn’t you?”


	69. Chapter 69

Daryl looked back at the fire, exhaling through his nose.

You don’t have to like it. You just have to swallow it; it’s the world we live in.

I licked my lips. A question I’ve been thinking about for awhile now, burning on my tongue. I haven’t found the right time to ask but maybe there is no right time. I both want and don’t want the answer, so I’ve been avoiding it for some time.

“Have you decided?”

“What?” Daryl looked at me, confused.

“Have you decided...” I repeated. “If you’re gonna stay?”

Daryl stared at me with his jaw tight. Like a kid caught cheating on his homework.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

He groaned a sigh and stabbed the fire again. Distant thunder caught my ear and apparently Daryl’s too as we both turned, looking off into the woods but more at the tree tops than under the canopy.

I didn’t notice the temperature dropping sitting by the fire next to Daryl but now that my attention was on it, I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck creeping up.

Thousand one...Thousand two...Thousand three. I steadily counted, trying to determine whether the storm was coming or going. How I used to since I was a kid. Though back then it was rarely for an actual storm. Even if it didn’t work, I still did it for some reason. To this day I’m not entirely sure why.

A chilling breeze whooshed the flames consuming the logs in front of us, pushing my hair away my neck to nip goosebumps into my skin. “It’s headed this way.”

Daryl grunted, looking up at the sky. I followed his gaze to waves of dark grey clouds above us. It’s weird that it’s the middle of the night but we can see the rolling bank of silver and grey covering the stars.

Something hit my cheek and I flinched more violently than I would’ve expected, accidentally hitting Daryl’s elbow with mine. A zing bolted up my arm as he grunted, both of us grabbing our elbows at the same time grunting in pain.

Daryl hissed, then flinched himself and looked up. “The Hell?”

More drops began hitting me and instinctively my arms lifted to cover my head though it won’t do much good.

Daryl hunched with every drop that pelted him and stood up, me right along with him.

Within seconds, it was pouring and Daryl was ripping his tent open, both of us ducking inside, and as if it was just waiting for us to get under cover a loud crack of thunder echoed through the sky and rivers ran from the sky.

Daryl grumbled, scowling outside. “That came outta nowhere”

Yeah no kidding. Is it possible it’s been creeping up for a while and we were just too distracted to hear it?

I’m not sure I like that explanation any more than a flash flood.

The campfire outside hissed with every drop that hit it. Like water on a hot pan, until we could no longer hear it over the sound of the rain.

I leaned over a little bit to try to get a look outside but I can barely see the house anymore through this downpour.

I grimaced at the thought of trying to book it back to camp, and looked at Daryl.

“Don’t even try.” He shook his head, as if reading my mind. “Best to just wait it out.”

I nodded, somewhat apologetically.

“Might as well get comfortable. It’s gonna be a while.” Daryl sat down and pulled his boots off.

I nodded and took a seat next to him, doing the same and tossed my muddy boots into the same corner as his.

My shirt clung to my skin just like before when I was running, only this time it’s really soaked.

Thank god I don’t wear white anymore —and neither does Daryl— or this would get awkward fast.

I rung out my hair over the edge of the tent, as Daryl rung out the end of his shirt.

It never ceases to amaze me just how fast rain can soak you.

I blew my hair out of my face, flinging the annoying tussle over my shoulder.

I leaned away as Daryl shook his head, his hair scattering water in every direction.

I stretched my toes now that they’re free from the cage of my boots.

The rain may have distracted for a moment but as soon as we settled back down, the ‘elephant in the room’ atmosphere from before crept back.

Only now it was a bit more awkward because we’re trapped in here together. Neither of us can just leave unless we don’t want to be in here bad enough that we’re willing to go out in that.

I don’t do well with awkward. It’s never been my strong suit.

“If you really want to leave, I’m not going to try and stop you. Nobody has the right to. I know how troublesome these guys can be.” I motioned in the general direction of the others. “Just… please” I looked at him, and he was staring back at me. “Take a few days and think it through before you make a final decision. You’re not the only one who will be affected.”

Daryl looked down at his hands, picking at his fingernails, and after a long moment, he nodded.

* * *

My chin rested on my arms as I lay on my stomach, staring at the rainy sky next to Daryl who was on his back, arms behind his head; looking out the tent door upside down.

It’s been two hours and it hasn’t let up. What started out as a flash flood has turned into an actual rainstorm.

The ground’s nothing but mud at this point, and the fire pit practically sank a half hour ago.

I let out a soft sigh, poking my tongue against the inside of my cheek. Quietly watching the rain come down, keeping the both of us trapped in the small fabric hut.

As sudden as it was, it’s actually kinda nice.

The wind chill isn’t bad from inside here, despite the fact we’ve got the door open. The water itself is kinda warm which is weird since winter is just around the corner.

The silence would’ve been kinda awkward if both of us weren’t so comfortable with quiet.

I never understood why people get uncomfortable with silence. I treasure it when it’s quiet. It brings me peace of mind. Lets me think.

Maybe that’s why. People who are afraid of their own minds don’t like to be inside them.

Meanwhile, I love my mind. It’s my favorite place to retreat to. Be free to wonder things like, what walker's do during a thunderstorm? Try to bite the sky? Chase lightning? Try to eat rain?

Daryl shifted, looking at me strangely. “Only you would be curious bout that.”

What? Did I say that out loud?

“Yeah, ya did.” he snorted, an amused smirk on his face.

I reeled, sitting up on my elbows and sank my teeth into my bottom lip. Exactly how much of that did I say out loud?

“Relax, Sunshine.” Daryl half-heartedly rolled his eyes. “Yer strange thoughts are still yours 99% a the time.”

Okay, I am  _ positive _ I didn’t say anything that time. So unless I have ventriloquist talents I wasn’t aware of until this very moment, there’s only one explanation for this: Eve speak.

I set my chin back down, and rolled my head from side to side on my wrists; only somewhat appeased by the fact he doesn’t seem phased by anything he heard.

If I ask him what he heard, or what I said, he’ll know there’s something I didn’t want heard. But if I already said it, then what does it matter? But if that’s the case, why should I bring it back up and make things awkward and embarrassing(for me)?

Agh! My head hurts, I’m too tired for this. Fine, whatever. I’m not doing myself any favors right now. This time I’ll let it go, and pretend/hope he didn’t hear anything except the walkers storm thing. Because it’s obvious I at least said that.

I sighed again, pressing my forehead into my wrists. It may or may not have been to hide the rising temperature in my face but that’s my business.

You know most people would be happy having someone you feel so comfortable with, your thoughts just spew without you noticing. But for me? Not so much.

It’s been happening more and more often, and it’s still weird.


	70. Chapter 70

**Daryl’s POV**

My eyes peeled open and the first thing that came to my attention other than the light was muttering next to me.

I turned and jumped finding a mass of dark hair scattered over a head that was buried face down in her arms. “If it’s too cold, run outside and jump in the snow. Then it will be colder and the fish will be pleased.”

“The hell?” I sat up and reached over, carefully picking a clump of brown hair off her face. Nope, she is asleep.

I glanced outside where the mud was slowly becoming solid again instead of sludge.

It must've rained all night.

Pulling my knees up, I grabbed my boots from the corner; almost putting Eve’s shoe on before realizing the shoe is black and not just covered in mud like mine.

Eve groaned in a sleepy whine, shifting, and dragged her face across the ground as she turned her head the other direction.

If I don’t get her up while she’s somewhat awake now, she’ll keep sleepin’ for who knows how long.

“Ey” I tapped her side with my knuckles.

“Mmm” she groaned again, curling but didn’t give any indication of being awake, let alone getting up.

“You don’t get up now, yer gonna miss breakfast.”

I started as her head snapped up, hair tangled over her face in a way that gave me serious deja vu. She tried to push it out of her way but it only tangled further and the more she did, the more it looks like the swamp monster’s return.

“Stop, yer only makin’ it worse. Just sit up.” I pushed her boots towards her.

She sighed, before pushing herself up like a surfer, and pulled her knees in front of her to grab her boots.

I got up, ducking out of the tent while she put her shoes on and went to check on my game that was strung up on a line between two trees.

Eve came out a minute later, untangling a hair tie from the tangles and whipped her hair around before trying to pull it back.

I watched in amusement for a good five minutes while she tried to fight with it but it was just not having it and finally she huffed, pulling her knife.

“What are you doin?” I watched with a skeptical gaze as she grabbed a fist full of her hair, raising the knife to it.

She paused to look at me, before grumbling. “A haircut’s in order.”

“Why don’ you just ask Carol or one a ‘em to cut it?”

She stopped right as she was about to sheer herself. Staring at the tangled mess she pursed her lips and nodded, sheathing the blade.

“You comin?” I scooped up my crossbow and started towards camp. Eve right behind me.

We walked in silence over uneven ground, Eve stretching as we went. Her bones cracking, and little noises of relief after stretching a stiff muscle. Right up until we reached the path near the barn, following it up towards camp.

When we got closer, people were already up and about and Carl waved. I saw Eve wave back out of the corner of my eye, while she raised her other hand to cover a yawn.

She tensed next to me and I craned my neck as her pace slowed, lightening her step to the point where it might as well be erased.

Her eyes steeled, narrowing just the slightest. Careful observance spreading through the vivid amber color. The way it does when she’s being cautious.

I followed her line of sight to Shane, leaning against a tree.

She’s being wary at this distance? We ain’t even made it to the edge of camp yet.

She’s been doing this for awhile now, and I don’t think she realizes either.

I slowed, glancing at her again as we came up on Carol & Lori cooking breakfast at the fire.

Eve ruffled Carl’s hair as she sat down next to the kid.

Carol handed Eve a plate and she inhaled ‘er food as always. She was done in under a minute.

I didn’t pay much attention as she put ‘er plate in the wash tub, before disappearing somewhere and comin’ back a minute later with a pair a scissors.

I watched from my seat while Eve practically mimed what she wanted, as usual.

Last night was weird. It was almost like when she was drunk. It’s weird seein’ her flip back and forth.

Half the time I almost forget she don’t talk much, the other half I expect ‘er to just speak.

Sometimes I wonder why she does it. Why she only talks to me. I ain’t no chatty Cathy neither.

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

I sat on the log with a towel around my neck, trying not to fidget too much.

I’m so glad I got these scissors for Lori back at the quarry— I’m glad she asked me to find some when me & Glenn went out. Haircuts are not really a top priority when it comes to survival, but in a way they are. They play a role.

Too long, it’s easy to grab. Too short it’s easier to lose heat, and your neck is exposed to the elements, bugs, the sun.

That’s why I’m trying not to flinch while the woman with a very sharp pair of scissors is near my neck cutting my dark shoulder-blade length hair; leaving the end to just barely brush up against the top of my shoulders.

Enough to keep me warm. Enough to cover my neck, keep it protected, but still long enough to put up and keep out of my face.

Unfortunately that also means it’s long enough to still be pulled but not anything like before. If it’s within grabbing distance now, I’m already in trouble.

It’s not that I don’t trust Lori, it’s just… having someone I can’t see, near my neck, with a blade of any sort is not a feeling that sits easy with me.

Lori moved my head for the 3rd time, chuckling in a fond tone. “Gosh, you’re almost as bad as Carl.”

Daryl snorted and I pulled my bottom eyelid down, sticking my tongue out at him; which caused Carl to erupt in a fit of giggles and Carol to smile just before Rick came walking up.

His eyebrow quirked with a hint of a smile. “Get tired of havin’ it long?”

I shrugged.

“Something like that,” Daryl’s face contorted with a wicked amused smirk. “Ya shoulda seen her trynna get it off ‘er face earlie.”

I sent dagger eyes towards him, but the tight pinching of my lips, trying to suppress a smile probably ruined it. And as evident by another round of laughs at my expense, it did.

Rick returned to somewhat serious. Uh oh. I know that stance.

“When yer done here, I have a favor to ask. If yer not busy.”

I blinked and shook my head. Lori gasped and I jumped before she grabbed my noggin.

“Evelyn Rider.”

I froze. Unintentionally puffing out my cheeks, as I watched in the corner of my eye for Lori.

“Good girl” I heard snipping again, and started breathing again.

Rick chuckled. “I’ll meet you down by the barn after ur done.” And there he goes. Off to do leader things.

Daryl finished his food, and stood up; pulling his crossbow over his shoulders. “Let’s go hunt after ur chat.”

I gave an okay sign this time, very nearly forgetting again but I remembered, and that’s all that counts.


	71. Chapter 71

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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I made my way down to Rick inside the barn. He didn’t see me coming as he was looking around the interior; eyeing the rafters.

I watched for a moment, trying to figure out what he was doing before tapping my foot to announce my presence. He spun around but at least it isn’t weapon first like I’m used to.

For someone who was just snuck up on, he doesn’t seem too shook but then again, he was expecting me.

“Nice” Rick motioned at my hair and I smiled, glancing at the ends. But we’re not here to talk about my haircut.

I shifted my weight to lean against one of the interior supports, and quirked a brow.

“I’ll get straight to the point. How often do you use your gun?”

That came outta nowhere. I don’t use it often, but he knows that. So why the sudden interest?

Rick observed my expression and must’ve found a good enough answer because he nodded. “Could you teach me how to use a knife?”

I looked at him curiously for a moment, tonguing my molars but nodded.

It’s not like I got better things to do at the moment, and I don’t think it’s a bad idea for everyone to learn how to use their knives properly.

He took out his knife, shifting his complete attention to me.

Oh he means right now— alright, then.

I pulled my own knife and paused, looking at the severe difference between our blades. My 6 inch man slaughterer vs his barely 2 inch switchblade that couldn’t be used to mug a teenager half his size, much less kill a walker, or Merlin forbid a trained human being.

I licked my lips, scratching my neck. Mmm… This is gonna be tough.

The way I use knives will never gonna work for that little thing. Now that I think about it, my style is not something I can just teach either. Enough of it relies on my level of reflex.

The way I use ‘em requires a certain degree of stealth & body awareness, that doesn’t just happen overnight. It takes months —months we don’t have— of dedicated practice to train that sort a thing in yourself.

I could teach him the core basics though. That should be relatively easy, and maybe a few tricks to get him started. Those should work better for him anyway.

If he does it right, he won’t need to know anything fancy like knife throwing, or fighting an opponent with a knife. I assume he wants to use them on walkers.

Maybe farther down the line it’ll come in handy to teach how to face off against someone with a blade, but that’s a lesson for another day.

For right now though, the beginner's course it is.

I motioned for Rick to follow me, out of the barn and to the treeline, to find a nice practice dummy.

* * *

“Knives are different than what you’re used to with a gun. Knives are close quarters weapons, where guns are only effective at 20 feet or more.” I twisted the steel blade in my hand. “They extend only as far as you do. And there’s a lot of danger that comes with being close in a fight, but if you know what you’re doing, it gives you the upper hand.”

Rick nodded, listening carefully and watching my hands.

“First things first. There are different kinds of knives and it will affect how you wield them. There are a couple different ways to hold a knife. The most effective depends on which blade you’re using. Whether it’s long or short will affect how it’s used.” I demonstrated how most people hold a knife, firmly by the grip, blade straight out.

It’s effective for quick stabbing or targeted deep wounds, but not for cutting and not the most effective if it drives through bone. The blade could break, or get stuck and then you’ve lost your weapon.

“This is my preferred method.” I demonstrated. “Blade facing out, braced along the forearm. This makes the attack more difficult to avoid. As well as harder to knock the blade out of hand, and to avoid getting sliced. With this method, you can slice with forward motion” I demonstrated on the tree, cutting a slow clean line into the bark.

“And stab as you come back.” I brought my arm back the other direction and embedded the end of my knife into the bark, with enough force to stick no problem. I would have to yank it pretty hard to get it back out.

Rick’s impressment wouldn’t be easy to miss, but he also looks as if he recognized the move. Which isn’t surprising, he might have seen me use it before.

“This isn’t effective for most short blades, but the longer ones are twice as dangerous this way and easier to control.”

He nodded, scratching his nose for a second but didn’t take his attention off the lesson.

“Short blades are meant for stabbing. Quick, decisive strikes like a snake bite. Pinpoint attacks that should be fast enough the target almost doesn’t know they’ve been hit for at least a split second. Aim for the weak _ soft _tissues.”

I tapped his stomach with my knuckles. “The gut”

“Arteries” I tapped several arteries in different places of the body; including his thigh, where the femoral artery is located.

“Exposed Tendons and joints when you can get them, are the sweet zone for disablement.” I lifted his arm and ran my finger in a ‘slice’ over the muscles that allow you to lift your arm, and again at the inside of his elbow, tacking on a quick “slice” to the back of his knee.

“Don’t ever underestimate how effective a strike to the knee can be. It disables your target from running, and you’d be surprised how limited movement becomes.”

He nodded, eyebrows raising as he thought about it. As though he’s recalling events where he’s seen people take a hit to the knee and go down immediately.

“Anywhere on the neck should be your target if you catch it being left open. The jugular in particular.” I rested two fingers above his collarbone, on the muscle protecting the jugular. “One strike, or puncture of any kind to this area and you’ll either bleed to death in minutes, be unconscious in a few seconds, or if it ruptures... immediate death.”

Rick nodded, and I motioned to the tree for him to try.

I can see why he was deputy. He’s a fast learner. After only a few strikes he’s getting the hang out it.

“In a knife fight, don’t be afraid to use other parts of your body. A slice across the chest followed through with an elbow to the jaw can put most people on the ground like _ that _.” I snapped my fingers.

“Don’t underestimate how effective a fast strike between blade attacks can be either.” I tapped his shoulder and he turned back towards me.

“Stab” I pushed on his solar plexus with my fingers.

“Strike” I dropped the side of my hand in a chopping motion on his jugular.

“Slash” My fingertips dragged across his throat.

“A combo is your finishing move. If your opponent isn’t down by the end of one, it failed.”

He nodded and I motioned to put the knife down and to try on me.

He repeated the same move I just did, but added a stab to the gut on the end.

I hummed, nodding; eyebrows raised. I’m impressed. He’s picking it up quick. Only a few more pointers.

“The less resistance, the better. Avoid bone whenever possible.”

“You could chip or even break your blade. Worse case scenario, it gets stuck and you lose your weapon in the struggle.” I tapped his sternum, and pressed on another few points where tough bone resides just beneath the epidermis and little bits of fat & muscle.

Rick nodded, “I know. I’ve seen it.”

“A shot to the solar plexus with your fist is more effective than with a blade because it traumatizes the diaphragm, and causes the muscles to seize which could stun your opponent if they don’t have truly exceptional muscle there. _ Especially _ if it’s a man because there’s a chance it’ll get his short ribs too.”

He nodded, understanding and I motioned again. He tried his combo again, and this time if we had been having a real fight (minus me fighting back), it would have been deadly.

I smirked and gave him a firm pat on the arm with an approving grunt and had him practice that a few more times before moving on.

“Now, where you aim will differ between what your target is. Something alive? All the good stuff from before. Something dead? The temple is your sweet spot.” I tapped that spot on his head.

“Base of the skull works well too. Right here.” I found the point where the skull connects to spinal column.

“Eye socket is great, though it’s better for longer blades because it squirts, and fluid makes your grip too slick to hold securely. Your aim should be to make quick, _ clean _kills with as little energy expenditure as possible. It’s easy to stand in one place and shoot things, but a knife fight is more physically demanding. You’ll get tired easier and the more energy you spend, the more chance the likelihood of you winning will free fall.”

“In a tight spot, you can go up through here.” I tapped his nose. “Works well for a long screwdriver. Best case scenario you hit it right, and the bone shards shoot into the skull.”

Rick grimaced though he tried to hide it, shifting a little. I can almost hear him thinking, _ ‘I don’t even wanna know how she knows that.’ _

“Avoid the top of the head.” I dropped my fist on the top of his head but not hard enough to hurt him. “The cranium is built to take impact. It’s a protective case and takes more force than it’s worth to get through. And if your blade doesn’t snap like a toothpick, it’ll get stuck. No question. Unless you’re _ very _lucky or the skull has been weakened in some way.”

“Makes sense.” He nodded again, leaning his weight to one leg.

I removed my hand to motion a circle around my lips. “Avoid the mouth area. Only thing that’ll do, is get you bit. And it’s not only walker bites that can kill you with that.”

His brow quirked in interest.

“The bacteria present in a human mouth, living or dead — especially dead, could _ easily _pass a life-threatening infection that we no longer have the means to treat. Like, flesh eating bacteria. You should avoid mouth shots coming in contact with your bare skin no matter what you’re using. Knife, gun, fist, club, a dictionary, whatever. You may win the fight, but in the end you’ll lose the war.”

Rick nodded and finally asked what I suspect has been burning his tongue since the lesson began. “You didn’t strike me as the medical type. Where’d you learn all this?”

I shrugged, “Curious person. You pick things up.”

“You pick up a lot of thangs.” Rick turned back to the tree, practicing a few techniques I displayed and practicing a few combos; mixing and matching, creating his own, tossing in a few famous moves I recognized, and later putting twists on them until everything started to feel natural and intuitive.

Let it never be said that Rick Grimes is not a capable human being.


	72. Chapter 72

I watched him for a good 20 minutes, leaning against another tree, but as I stood. My mind drifted, as it often does.

There were plenty of opportunities to learn this stuff before. Why now?

Why not before, when we did gun practice, or during the search for our lost lamb.

There’s just one thing I can’t figure out about that whole ordeal, and it’s been eating at the back of my mind for days now.

When Rick & Hershel were bringing those two walkers to the barn. You can see the barn from every corner of the property. Especially from the house.

“Hey”

Rick turned around.

“When you and Hershel were takin’ those walkers to the barn. Do you really believe they didn’t know she was in there.”

Rick leaned his weight on one leg. “I do”

“Why?”

“Because” Rick drawled, in a heavy exhausted tone. “Hershel told me Otis must’ve put her in there before he died. I believe him. He has no reason to lie about that, nor was he in the state too.”

I put my hands up. “I’m not tryna start a fight. Just trying to get my head around this.”

He sighed; visible tension lifting from his shoulders. “Sorry. I know. I been tryna do the same thing.”

Are things that bad between him and everyone? That he feels the need to defend his stance in a simple conversation?

I observed him carefully and it was long enough to make him ask, “What?”

Seems Daryl isn’t the only one I need to say this to. “I’ve got your back, Rick.”

He looked at me, confounded.

“That won’t change, even if I don’t agree with everything you do or every decision that’s made.”

Rick chuckled, and I almost saw the exact moment of relief. Just hearing someone say it. I forget sometimes that not everybody has the same distrust of words that I do.

“You sure have been chatty lately.”

It was my turn to chuckle. Because Daryl said the same thing to me before. “Desperate times. Desperate measures.”

Rick’s smile began to fade as he stared at the crunchy orange leaves on the ground.

So he sees it too. Daryl & I aren’t the only ones who see what’s happening. What’s tracking on this group’s horizon.

I took a deep breath, leaning my head back against the tree.

Otis, huh?

I never got to meet the man, but from what I know he was a decent person. Perhaps more so than we are anymore.

He was responsible for Carl’s gunshot wound but he’s also the reason he’s alive.

I can’t hate the man for what happened, it was an accident, and he tried to fix it, which is more than I can say for most people. Before or after the turn.

Wait, but that all went down the  _ day after _ Sophia went missing. If Otis is the one who put her in the barn, that means...

* * *

Eve made her way towards Daryl at the treeline, where he was adjusting a newly made arrow.

He noticed me as I came up and stood, holding his crossbow in front of his chest with the loaded arrow aimed at the ground. “Have a nice chat?”

Rick and mine’s conversation echoed in my head. I nodded.

Daryl looked at me oddly for a moment before jerking his head and we started off into the woods.

I hopped the fence, doing a scan as Daryl hopped over, landing just behind me. I glanced over my shoulder at him and took out my knives.

“S’go” He started forward, watching the ground and I followed, watching around us.

The familiar routine of keeping an eye out while Daryl found tracks brought a sort of solace to the plague I’d taken onto my mind through my own curiosity; my need to understand. Worst part is, it doesn’t even matter that I figured out what happened.

For once in my life, I’d rather I didn’t know.

* * *

Within 10 minutes of the farm leaving sight, we were back to one of the few places that brings me tranquility.

In the deep woods, I felt like I could breathe again. Nothing matters here, except for what’s right in front of you. Everything else just fades with the bird song.

It isn’t complicated, it isn’t cruel, it’s just nature. Straightforward, simple. No moralistic debate, no runaway minds to put back on track, no fear to tame. Just me, Daryl, the sunlight through thick leaves that have slowly begun to turn yellow, the distant sound of animals going about what they’ve always done, and the soft ground beneath our feet.

Nothing has changed in the woods. Nothing’s changed in nature. It’s all just different life forms & organisms bumping up against one another.

For nature, this plague which has brought mankind to our knees, is simply a new predator atop the food chain. One that, after centuries, has finally managed to dethrone humankind.

Out here, things are simple. I much prefer it out here to a farm where everyone’s losing their goddamn minds. Who are one bad argument & one poor decision away from spilling each other’s guts.

I know why Daryl wants to leave. I see it more and more clearly every minute we’re out here.

The woods are to Daryl, as the night sky is to me. A place where you can hear yourself think. A place that helps you see clearly. Something that reminds you just how small you are compared to the world, but no less or more important than the organisms around you. No matter if you’re smarter or stronger, bigger or smaller. A single tree is an entire world, and connected to the trees around it, it becomes a galaxy. Connect those to the forests & streams around them and you get a galaxy. Connect them to every other stream, creature, and forest in the globe and you have a universe. All contained on one tiny rock hurtling through space; basking in the warmth of a star the way a plant drinks the rain.

Maybe… I can’t believe I’m saying this, but maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to be out here on your own. Daryl & I can both handle ourselves, we clearly have no trouble being alone.

There’d be no drama. No power struggles. No moral debates.

If worse comes to worse, if Daryl really decides to leave… maybe I should too.

I don’t like the idea of leaving the others. I don’t like the idea of anyone else leaving either, but with the way things are tracking, it’s not gonna matter much whether I like it or not.

I don’t want the group to split. These people have become family to me. Family is something I’ve never known before, but I don’t know what to do to stop it.

I tried giving the men in charge a good scolding, and I’d hoped they’d bring things back on track, and it’s done them some good from what I’ve seen but the group’s still drifting.

If the others start dividing and a split is on the horizon, I’ll have to make a very tough decision. Whether I’m getting out with Daryl before shit goes down, or if I’m gonna wait for the clock to run down; trying to fix something I’m not even sure can be fixed.

I don’t know if it’s just because I’ve misunderstood what it means to be a group or not, but the latter option sounds an awful lot like going down with the ship.

I don’t know much about family or friends, but Glenn taught me one thing. You don’t die for friends, you live for them. And I have most certainly lived for these people since before we left the quarry. To me, they are family, but am I the only one who sees it that way?

I know families are meant to fight and squabble but they always come back together, no? That’s what it’s supposed to be like, isn’t it?

Whether or not that means I should try to save what’s already gone? I don’t know. But I’m at least going to try. Even if it’s a futile struggle. Because to me, that’s what it means to be family _ . _

A shuffle in the corner of my vision had me stopping, and I tapped Daryl’s hunched back. He turned and I pointed at the walker shuffling it’s oblivious way towards us.

He nodded at me and I confirmed with a nod of my own before splitting off, going back a few steps and coming around the back side.

I watched for other walkers and spotted two more farther down the way we were headed before I slid my knife up the back of the walkers skull.

I whistled at the other two as the body dropped, and they turned; growling as they spotted me.

They began to stumble my way and I turned around, walking back. I glanced over my shoulder every few seconds until the two were positioned between me and Daryl.

I flipped my knife in my hand and threw it just before a bolt pierced the one closest to me.

My knife sailed through the air, glinting in the sunlight before it went straight into the other walker’s forehead before it could even get close to grabbing Daryl. It’s head was pulled back with the impact and sent it’s lifeless heap, onto it’s back in the muddy forest floor.

Daryl glanced behind him at the walker and moved to pull the knife out of its cranium with a gross scraping sound; Like the kind you hear from a grinding two rocks together.

I pulled his arrow out of this one with a crunchy  _ ‘slick _ ’ and swiped it off on the walker’s grimy ripped shirt which I suspect used to be white.

He swiped my knife off on the other’s red jacket before carefully tossing the blade back to me. I caught the steadily thrown blade and spun his arrow like a pen between my fingers as I walked back, before bracing it with two fingers; holding the feathered end out to him.

He reloaded his crossbow as I glanced around again. My eyes settled on the bodies.

“There’s been more of ‘em lately.”

I hummed, glancing at Daryl as he came to stand next to me, looking over the bodies.

“There were hardly any of ‘em when we got ‘ere. Seems like there’s more and more everyday now.” Daryl looked around, to make sure we weren’t drawing any unwanted attention, or scaring off any game; even though his voice was low as he spoke.

I nodded again, making a small noise of agreement.

Where are they coming from, though? It’s not like there’s much around here. There’s not much for them to eat —not compared to other places. We’re miles from the nearest dense population area too.

What could be drawing them out this far?

“It don’ sit right.” Daryl voiced my thoughts exactly.

I looked around, humming in response.

They came from that way. If we can find out where they’re coming from, maybe we can at least figure out how many there are and whether or not we should be concerned.


	73. Chapter 73

I rubbed my nose on the back of my hand, sniffling. It’s getting colder. That’s gonna be a problem soon.

I don’t know exactly what time of year it is, but it’s gotta be mid to late Fall by now.

Last year it started snowing in October. If this year is the same, we don’t have a lot of time before winter decides to drop in for the holidays. Call me crazy but I don’t think flimsy fabric tents will protect us against a snowstorm.

We’re either gonna have to work something out with Hershel, or move on; find somewhere to hole up from the cold.

We’re gonna need warmer clothes, winter boots, plenty of fuel, stock up on food like we’re going into hibernation.

I moved along behind Daryl, but we’ve been hunting for almost 4 hours now and haven’t found anything but more walkers, squirrels (cue shutter), and the highway we were stranded on not too long ago.

Daryl stopped in the middle of the street, looking in both empty directions. Only thing I can see is the carjam we got stuck in before.

I scratched my head, sharing a look with him. This was a waste of time. A nice idea, but ultimately we’ve just wasted our time.

Only game we’ve got are those furry vomit peels and I think I’d rather eat my own shoe.

It took me a minute to notice Daryl was staring at the cars, but only because I was looking at them the exact same way.

I clenched my teeth, swallowing hard. I couldn’t take looking at them anymore, so I moved my gaze to the street. A rusty penny staring back up at me.

We thought the kids were safe with all of us around, but the truth is, they’re not any safer than we are. Our chances of survival are all the same— have been from the start.

The odds are stacked against every single person left on this —literally— Godforsaken rock.

We’re stronger together. That much has proven true, but it doesn’t mean we’re invincible. If the group continues to divide, we’re all gonna end up breaking into smaller and smaller groups. What happens then? How many of us will make it?

I know Daryl and I —if I were to go with him— would probably be alright, for awhile at least. But what about the rest?

Most of the adults can handle themselves well enough, but what about Carol? I don’t think she even knows how to shoot a moving target. What about Glenn? Would he stick with the Greene’s? If we went our separate ways, would I ever see him again?

“Come on. Let’s head back. Ain’t nothin’ out ‘ere.” Daryl moved past me and I followed in silence.

It took us about half an hour to get back, we got lucky and found a little more game on our way. The tense silence we’d left the road in, faded but the guilt pooling in my gut only grew as we made it back to camp and began skinning and prepping what we’d hauled.

The rest of the day went by in a blur and before I knew it, I’d spent all day with Daryl at his secluded campsite.

Not even the gross smell of cooking squirrel on the fire stirred me.

I can’t stop. I can’t stop thinking about what Rick and I worked out. My head is spinning listing all the reasons why I shouldn’t stay in the group, and half of them are precisely why I have to.

I put my head in my hands, sliding clawed fingers through my hair.

* * *

**Daryl’s POV**

I glanced at Eve, half expecting her to have that disgusted look on her face. But she didn’t, and that made me tense.

She’s been quiet all day. Not her usual quiet —this is just, vacant.

She’s been acting different since this mornin’. Soon as she got back from whatever she was up to with Rick.

Looked like she’d seen a ghost then. Had the same look when we got to the highway.

She met ‘im in the barn. Only thing that connects the barn and the highway is Sophia. Is that why?

No, wait. That’s not the only thing. Shane was involved with both. The way she looks at ‘im has changed. She’s been watching him like a hawk.

I couldn’t help my curiosity any longer. Eve’s been actin’ strange towards him for awhile now. It got worse after the barn, after… And I been meaning to ask ‘er about it. Now’s as good a time as any.

“What’s been goin’ on with you and Shane?”

I thought she’d work it out and be back to normal, like she always does but it’s lingering.

Her gaze shifted to me, head turning from it’s hung position.

“You think ain’t nobody noticed? You been lookin’ at the guy like he’s the enemy. Haven’t gone near ‘im unless you had to since before the highway.” Normally I wouldn’t have given a shit, but it’s Eve. When she’s off, it don’t sit right. Makes me anxious when she’s always on her toes like this.

Her jaw shifted before clamping her teeth and directed her gaze at ‘er hands. “...I don’t trust him.”

“I don’t trust him neither, don’t mean he’s gonna attack you.”

Eve didn’t respond and my eyes narrowed.

Wait.

Does she—? Is she actually expectin’ to be attacked?

She sighed, running a hand through her shorter hair, pulling it back over her head, out of her face. And I thought I had trust issues.

“Don’t bullshit me, Daryl. I know you’ve seen it too. He’s starting to act like —...” She trailed off, shaking her head at her hands.

“Ma brother?” Her eyes slowly came to meet mine but I didn’t read into the look for a change. “Yeah, I seen it. But I ain’t the one who fixed to shoot ‘im yesterday in front a that barn.”

Eve shifted, looking down as if she regrets it, but I get the sense she’s ashamed that she doesn't feel guilty about it.

“It ain’t difficult to figure out. Ya tense up every time ya so’s much as hear the man’s name.”

“You been noticin’ a lot lately.” Her jaw clenched and my eye was drawn to the pulse on ‘er neck as it started thumping harder.

“And you been talkin’ an awful lot last couple days. Now quit avoidin’ the damn question. What’s the deal?” My voice was rough but the question didn’t come across that way, like it usually does.

She shifted, licking her lips and I stared her down; waitin’ for her to give in.

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

God damnit, Dixon— that’s a  _ foul. _ Using my own fudge-nutting tricks against me.

I sighed, rubbing my eyes with my fingers before my hand settled over my forehead, elbows resting on my knees as those eyes came back to haunt me, like the damn ghost of Christmas past. This time side by side with their doubles from the CDC.

“He reminds me of someone.” I swallowed. 

I watched blue eyes turn to my shoulder but it took me half a second to realize I had unconsciously rolled it.

It was quiet for a long minute. Just the fire crackling as it chewed on the dead wood tossed into its jaws. Monstrous shadows from the roasting squirrel cast over the ground in the almost faded light of the evening sun.

I don’t know if he isn’t saying anything because he’s run out of questions, because he got his answer, or simply because there’s nothing left to say.

The fire crackled, whooshing with the light breeze that swept low under the canopy, crawling over the cooling earth to chill my ankles of all things.

“You think he’ll try somethin’?” Daryl looked at me, the atmosphere taking on a heavy serious undertone that wasn’t there before. The way he said it… I can’t help but feel like he’s asking what I see farther down this road that he doesn’t.

“You think he won’t?” I looked Daryl dead in the eyes. “Look at what he’s already done. You and I both remember what he was like when everything first went down. The Shane I knew back then —the one I trusted—… he never would’ve even considered half the shit he’s pulled in recent days.”

“It’s not a matter of  _ if _ , anymore. It’s  _ when. _ ” I glanced back at the fire, watching the flames creep closer and closer to one particular spot on a log.

The fire flickered, morphing the shadows on the ground as I pulled the squirrel stick away before it starts burning and makes me sick to my stomach.

“I honestly don’t know what he’s gonna do, or how he’s gonna do it, but in my experience” my mind wandered back to dangerous places, and I found myself resisting the urge to stretch my neck; to get my head as far from my shoulder as possible. “people who do things like that —without a second thought— are never idle for long.”


	74. Chapter 74

Ominous silence festered over the atmosphere as the minutes ticked by. What could happen in the coming days looming over both of us. I pulled my knife into my lap, watching the amber light dance with shadows over the gleaming blade. The gleam that once proved to myself that I could handle anything that came at me, now seeming more & more foreboding of a day when I may have to use it against someone who I once believed had my back.

I remember the Shane Walsh I met on the first exit off that road. The night after they dropped the first bombs in the streets of Atlanta.

The night I met Glenn. One of the most important people in the world to me.

I remember accepting his handshake, despite not trusting him yet. I remember looking at Carl with his mother standing behind the man. I remember seeing Carol with her daughter, and my immediate wariness of Ed.

I remember Shane trusting me to find water even though we’d just met, and bring it back to everyone.

And when Glenn & I returned with Dale, Andrea, and Amy in the RV with that water.

I remember Shane being skeptical but saying he trusted my judgement. I remember being consulted on collecting so many survivors, and finding a place to set up because we both knew we couldn’t live on the road forever.

When we found the quarry, the man asking if I thought it was a good place; Weighing the pros & cons together before asking the others.

I remember being sent out for food and coming back with two more mouths when I helped Daryl & Merle and spent two hours leading them around to find stuff and weigh whether or not I could actually trust them.

Shane didn’t like it(Merle in particular), but because I had brought them in, he agreed to let them stay. He trusted me, and I trusted him. Not in the way I’ve grown to trust Daryl. I’ve never trusted anyone the way I trust the man next to me. But I trusted Shane because he was a good person. I knew he was, and not because he used to have a badge, but because of the way he looked out for everyone.

He reminded me of one of the older boys in the shelter I was a frequent flyer at. Always lookin’ out for the kids, keeping the peace, and making sure that when kids fought, they made up because the only people who were really on our side were each other; even though many of us didn’t even know one another’s names and most of us were trouble.

That was the only shelter I was ever in out of the 3 or so, that felt like I could depend on someone else, even just a little.

I remember deferring to Shane’s judgement. Watching his back on the runs he accompanied me & Glenn with when we went to risk finding ammo. I trusted him then.

I trusted him when I found out (in the most unfortunate way) about him and his partner’s widow. And I didn’t say anything because I trusted he knew what he was doing.

When Rick came back I trusted he would step back, or at the very least stop sleeping with the man’s wife.

What happened?

Where did that person go?

How did that dark seed plant itself in his eyes? Where did it start? Why didn’t I see it happening? Could I even have stopped it if I had?

Where will it spread from here? Being hurt is one thing, overreacting is another. I recognize that sickness in the mind that bleeds through the eyes in bone-chilling calm rage. But when I first encountered them, I was too young to know exactly what I was looking at. Too young and too scared to wonder If there’s a chance he could wipe the fog away and see clearly again. If he knows where the lines are? Or if those are gone for good.

It’s one thing to see those eyes on someone supposed to protect you. It’s another to see it festering in a friend. Growing like a choking vine and not knowing how to stop it. If it’s even possible to do so. Not knowing if you’re even capable of seeing clearly through your own fear.

_ Fearing _ a friend. Looking at them and the earth shattering moment when you realize you don’t recognize them.

Wondering if they’re even still in there. Lost somewhere in that black behind their eyes. If there’s anything left of the person you knew, to save.

I’m used to living in uncertainty, but I haven’t felt this uneasy about the future in a long time. And I had hoped— I had promised myself I never would again.

I don’t make promises I can’t keep though, and I don’t intend to start now.

“Not to keep beating a dead horse but… Why do you wanna leave?”

Daryl shifted. A somewhat distant look taking over. “Just do. Have ya seen the state of this group as of late?”

“Yeah” I sighed, but it was heavy. Heavy enough that somehow my chest feels even more weighed down than before.

“They rippin’ themselves apart. I don’t want no part of it.”

“None?” I looked at him but to be honest… I’m not sure If I was asking him, or myself. He noticed what’s coming in the group long before I did. Where I got caught up focusing on Shane, he was looking at the whole picture and watching it fracture.

“Nope. I ain’t goin’ down with this ship. I don’ owe these people nothin’.”

I can’t argue with that, but I can’t say I entirely agree either. Maybe it’s just nostalgia holding me back, but I need to know. If I’m actually gonna make this decision, I have to know it’s the right one. “What changed?”

“What d’ya mean?”

“You didn’t hesitate to help when Soph—… when Sophia went missing. What changed?”

Daryl looked away, glaring down at nothing with pursed lips.

“Sophia wasn’t your fault, Daryl.” Believe me. There’s nothing anyone could have done. Except...me.

I didn’t think he was gonna say anything as the silence passed the minute mark and looked down at the knife in my hands, to just let the silence take back over but finally he muttered, “I should’a found ‘er.”

The moisture began receding from my mouth; my talk with Rick bubbling back like boiling water in my head. “You shouldn’t have needed to.”

Daryl looked at me, face scrunching. “What’s that s’posed to mean?”

I didn’t answer and I could almost see the heckles raise as he stood up.

“Yer the one who said she was gon’ be  _ fine! _ ”

“ _ And I have to live with that!”  _ I shot to my feet.

His eyes are still angry but wider as he stepped back; jaw clamped shut.

If I had been in any better state of mind, I might have seen things differently, but in that moment I wasn’t. Guilt is a potent thing.

I saw this anger coming. I knew he blamed himself, we’ve all been doing the exact same thing. But I didn’t know he blames me, too.

For once in my life, someone else’s anger fueled my own; feeding into everything I was already thinking. And I snapped. At him, or with myself, I’m not sure I’ll ever know.

“You think I don’t know what I said!? What I believed?! You think I haven’t spent every second since she walked out of that godforsaken gate to Hell, wondering how I could have been such a dumbass!? At least you were able to  _ do  _ something!”

Daryl stepped back again as I stepped forward.

“At least you picked up her trail! Found her doll! All  _ I  _ did was get stuck in a hole!” I threw this goddamn knife into the tree and watched it plant itself an inch deep in the bark. “—Wander  _ aimlessly  _ through a forest I know next to nothing about!” I swung my arm back almost painfully.

“Nearly get myself lynched more than  _ once! _ And for what!? To take away from the search cause I can’t keep track of my own ass— much less  _ hers _ !”

My chest heaved like I’ve been running, shaking the air as it left my body. My muscles tight like I am moving but this is far from running.

“This never should’ve happened in the first place! Safety in numbers and all that BS— but she  _ wasn’t! _ Daryl. She  _ wasn’t  _ safe— none of us are!”

Daryl’s angered flared back up. “Ya think yer the only one who knows that!? You think if we could’a seen that that heard comin’ we wouldn’t have?! Wake up,  _ sunshine _ ! None a us could’a done a damn  _ thing  _ to help that little girl!”

“Yes we could have!”

“ _ How!?  _ By runnin’ off into the forest gettin’ everybody killed? Rick firin’ his gun and bringing  _ that whole  _ train right back!?”

“ _ I was in the forest! _ ”

Daryl froze.

Slow and cold. Dangerously honed eyes turned on me.

He stared me down and for maybe the first time ever, it’s working the way it’s supposed to.

“ _ What. _ ”

“While she was running for her life, everyone hid while Rick went after her, but I—...” My throat caught around the angry lump trying to strangle me from the inside, and I couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore. Looking at my boots.

“If I had gone back through the forest when I thought to, instead of waiting for the herd to pass… I would’ve seen her.”

I hadn’t planned on telling him this, I hadn’t planned on telling anyone,  _ ever _ . It was my cross to bear but it just… I can’t stop.

“I could’ve taken care of those walkers in a heartbeat— Rick could’ve gotten  _ both _ of them back... She would’ve been okay.”

My fists clenched so tightly my fingers started to tingle. Grinding my teeth as I glared at the dust on my boots.

I can see my own chest shaking but honest to god I don’t know why.

Whether it’s sorrow, anger, fear, guilt— I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.

Daryl growled lowly. A twisting lack of any emotion at all in the single word that came out of it. “ _ Where. _ ”

I didn’t answer.

I tried but I can’t force my lips to do anything more than part.

Thinking about that little girl’s face the last time I saw her alive. And the last time I saw her, period.

“Jesus, I thought you were one a the only people round ‘ere that didn’t need a babysitter!”

I flinched when he swung his arm, even though it was towards camp and not at me, old habits die hard.

“ _ Where in the forest were ya!? _ ”

I tried to speak louder but the only volume I could achieve was barely above a mumble. “Close enough I could have gone back.”

* * *

**3rd person POV**

“Rick did everything he could to save her, you did everything you could to find her, but I could have done something to stop it altogether and I  _ didn’t _ .”

Daryl was quiet, stood unnaturally still in front of one of the only people left in this world he trusts, while she admitted perhaps the biggest mistake of her life. A mistake that led to the brutal death of a little girl they all cared for.

“If I'd just gone back—…” Eve rubbed her frustrated, aching eyes hard enough to see spots. She doesn’t have the right to cry. She wants to so badly it physically hurts.

“Instead she  _ died  _ out there; alone and scared.”

When her vision blurred she didn’t bother trying to hide the angry tears stinging every atom of her glossing eyes.

No amount of tears can fill the chasm in the three words that have been burning her alive from the inside out since she figured out she was  _ the only _ person in the entire group who could have stopped it all from happening.

“ _ That’s on me. _ ”


	75. Chapter 75

Eve’s back touched the tree. Her head resting right beside the blade, stuck at eye level in the trunk as she slid down.

Her boots sliding in the dirt until she was on the ground. Muddy soles almost touching the stones around the firepit as her knees lined up with her shoulders.

Daryl grit his teeth, glaring at the dirt.

He knew she’d almost died out there. He had too. A lot of ‘em almost bit the dust for it.

They did it cause they thought—… Daryl kept telling himself the whole time that if they found ‘er, it’d all be worth it.

It was dumb.

It was dumb of them  _ both  _ to think that way. For the others, maybe not, they’re the kind of hopeful people who don’t think the world’s always been so ugly. But for the two of them, of all people, to fall into the ‘hope’ trap?

They both should have known better, and they know it.

Neither of them wanted to though. They just wanted something to go right for a change.

But fate is not inclined to free favors.

Daryl looked at the dying fire at his feet and couldn’t help a small part of him linking it to the woman on the ground.

She's good at hiding it —downright lies about it sometimes— but nothing can truly be hidden forever.

They both thought they were gonna find ‘er.

It’s been days. They should be over this by now. They got bigger things to worry about.

As unfortunate as it may be, they’re both keenly aware that just because the world flipped on its head doesn’t mean the way people handle grief does.

For survival, your brain can tuck just about anything away. But it’s the quiet moments where it creeps back in. The times you’re allowed to think, no matter how much you don’t want to.

Eve regrets letting her curiosity get the better of her. Something she never thought she’d experience.

Asking questions has always been her saving grace — has always allowed her to come to terms with anything that was thrown at her no matter how cruel or unfair.

Not this time.

Maybe curiosity isn’t as good as it used to be. Some things are better left where they lie. Some details are best left unknown. Like a magic trick.

Knowing the trick is fun and all, but it ruins it for you. All the wonder it once brought is gone, never to return.

Eve always thought she was the kinda person who wanted to know the trick so she could give that wonder to others.

But this is more like a  _ sick  _ joke.

She can’t even ask what they’ve done to deserve this because she knows.

Pick up any human history book and the evidence is all there. Scorched into the earth. They destroyed this planet, can you blame it for finally finding a way to fight back?

Daryl sank down in front of Eve. Her boot almost touching his knee.

He vaguely noticed her black jeans have ripped at her knee as she shifted, taking off her jacket.

She tossed the offending object to the ground beside her; almost landing one of the sleeves in the low fire.

It’s a little weird to see any of her skin aside from the neck up & her hands when she’s almost always in her hunting gear.

Eve is so unconsciously wary of her shoulder that most often she doesn’t take off her jacket in the presence of others but right now, it just itched.

Her shoulder is burning like that sizzling fire and she scratched it by rolling her shoulder against the tree, but winced when her ribs pulled a certain way. She forgot those weren’t fully healed yet and throwing that knife irritated a lot of things.

In the midst of everything that’s gone down, she actually forgot she’s still healing. Or maybe she was deliberately ignoring it this time.

She doesn’t want to think about the bruises that are still there on her back, so she pushed herself to focus on pretty much everything except herself.

The problem with that is ...eventually you run out of distractions.

Daryl noticed the way she winced and the reflexive curling of her hand towards her side, only because he’s already looking at ‘er.

His own side still aches a little when he twists.

Eve took even more of a beating  _ externally _ , whereas he took more of a pounding  _ internally,  _ but comparing who took more of a hit is pointless.

It’s undeniable they’ve both been through Hell on this near mindless crusade and neglected to look after themselves.

If they hadn’t been looking out for each other, one or both of ‘em might have actually bit it.

Worst part is, they both know  _ that  _ too.

He saw the oil paint-like bruises  _ days _ after she fell from the tree, and her dumb ass was still goin’ out there.

She knows he didn’t tell her the whole story when she was with him the night after impaling himself with his own bolt. That it was a lot worse than he let on.

He saw the little cuts & scrapes, and how she dragged herself when she came back every time she left this jinxed ass farm.

How she worked herself to exhaustion, and neglected her own wellbeing when she  _ was  _ back in camp.

It don’t take a genius to know why she almost died out there. To see she was being more reckless than usual, and that she has a serious soft spot for kids.

You don’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out  _ he  _ was in worse shape than he said.

That an impalement like that doesn’t heal in a day— even a couple days.

An injury like his takes weeks to heal.

Her internal injuries(ribs) ironically take about the same amount of time.

Longer, now that both of them have pushed their physical limits for days on end.

He knows she didn’t sleep much, because he didn’t either. He saw her that night she scrambled outta ‘er tent like it was on fire and sat in the dirt; Just starin’ up at the sky all night.

“You know what the worst part is…”

Daryl looked at the woman beside him, coming out of his thoughts to realize he’d moved next to her, like he was on autopilot.

“The Greene’s didn’t know she was in there.”

His eyebrows knit.

“Odis died that second day of our search. When Carl got shot.” Eve stared ahead. The orange-lit features of her face, blank and hollow.

“If he truly was the one who put Sophia in the barn… that means she didn’t make it a single night on ‘er own.”

Daryl’s shoulders dropped; realizing what Eve already knew. What she’s been carrying on her shoulders all day.

A bitter truth she spared everyone else from knowing. Even Rick when she put the pieces together after their conversation.

“She died less than 24 hours after we lost her.”

Daryl thought he’d been punched in the gut before. That it couldn’t get worse.

He was wrong.

No matter how bad something gets, it can  _ always _ get worse.

Eve inhaled.

“The second she veered off path back into the woods, she was already gone. Beyond our help.” Eve paused, her mind’s eye going back to that telltale fork in a wood-bound trail that sealed a little girl’s fate.

“Absolutely nothing we did since, would’ve made  _ any _ difference at all. Too little, too late...”

Silence, which had once been their friend and a harbinger of companionship, turned itself into the enemy.

It festered around them, hanging like a dark cloud, but after everything that's happened. All the truths that have come to light, everything they’ve done and everything they sacrificed or let be taken away from them, Daryl’s not willing to let  _ this  _ be taken too.

This is the one thing that’s kept him sane through all these months —especially when his brother wasn’t around.

This is the one thing—  _ Eve  _ is the one thing that makes him and everyone else still smile, after all this shit.

She’s the one thing that never changes, that he can count on, and she’s being pulled down with the rest a them.

He can’t accept that.

If he has to live in this world and make nice, so does she.

* * *

**Daryl’s POV**

“Yeah. You could’a gone back, and maybe that would’a changed things but you know what, you ain’t the only person 'ere who can kill a walker without a gun.”

Eve looked at me, somewhat startled at the sudden outburst after the long quiet.

“Truth is, ain’t nobody here is to blame.” It makes my teeth grind not having admitted this sooner. That it took all this dramatic bullshit to accept it.

“It ain’t nobody’s fault. We did everythin’ we could for that little girl, but sometimes there ain’t nothin’ you  _ can  _ do.”

Eve looked down at her hands, and I watched the gears in ‘er head turn.

“Blamin’ ourselves ain’t gonna do nobody any good. It ain’t gonna change what happened. It ain’t gon’ bring ‘er back. It’s a waste a time.”

“Shit happens. We don’ gotta like it. It’s just the way it is.”

I nudged her with my shoulder and waited till she looked at me.

It’s weird seein’ sadness in amber but the rest of her face says she knows exactly the point I’m tryna make.

You can be whatever you need to be, but you can’t get stuck, or we’ll end up just like ‘er.

Eve grit her teeth and swallowed, closing her eyes but nodded.

I never thought I’d see Eve cry without tryna hide it, but that’s what she happened.

She cried. Burying her eyes in her knees and I just sat here. Not knowing what to do.

Somewhere down the line, I awkwardly put my hand on her shoulder but she didn’t do nothin’. Didn’t shake it off, didn’t jump like normal; so I left it there.

When almost exactly (not that I could actually tell seein’ as I don’t have a clock or nothin) ten minutes elapsed, she sniffled raising her head up.

She wiped her nose on the back of her hand, swiping the salt water off her cheeks. Swallowed and breathed deep through her nose.

It’s almost like what she does after a panic attack.

I watched her exhausted shoulders & chest fall with the deepest sigh I’ve ever seen.

“It’s time to let go.”


	76. Chapter 76

**Eve’s POV**

It felt weird. Crying.

I haven’t cried in such a long time. I almost forgot what it felt like.

More importantly, I forgot how it unties the knots inside.

I rubbed my dry eyes, taking slow deep breaths as everything that had been boiling over was finally gone.

“Sorry” I muttered, feeling a little uncomfortable warmth in my puffy cheeks after my sudden meltdown.

“What you got to be sorry for?” I don’t even know anymore.

My shoulders barely lifted while I shook my head, and that’s when I noticed his hand still on my shoulder. Seems he noticed too because I watched him glance at it before he removed it, turning away from me slightly.

I’m too tired to think too much into that, and found myself picking up a stick, burning the end of it.

Daryl picked up a couple small sticks as well, from his other side, tossing them into the fire and keeping one long one to burn the end of like I am.

Well this is different.

Haven’t had an awkward silence between us for a long time. Awkward enough that Daryl cleared his throat. Twice.

I almost thought I was missing something, some hint, but when I shifted to kinda get up, he stiffened. So I let one knee down to rest on the ground, tucking the rest of my leg under the other which is still up at my shoulder, and he seemed to relax again.

So I take it that means he doesn’t want me to leave. Then what am I missing here? Why is it so awkward?

Does he feel awkward or am I just crazy?

I snuck a glance at Daryl and quickly directed my eyes back at my shoes when he looked at me.

Am I over analyzing this? I’m over analyzing this aren’t I?

Ohhh I don’t handle awkward well. Am I actually sweating? I feel like a twinkly teenager what is wrong with me? It’s just an awkward silence, after an awkward moment, spawned by an embarrassing meltdown, following an intense argument.

It was my turn to swallow, clearing my throat a little. I took my stick out of the fire, blowing lightly on the end and put it to the dirt, starting the beginnings of complicated swirls in the loose dirt.

Ugh why is this so uncomfortable!? It’s just Daryl.

I know neither of us do super well with physical contact but it was just a touch on the shoulder —there wasn’t even any skin contact! And it didn’t feel weird or uncomfortable when it was there, why is it so awkward now that it’s gone?

Should I just leave? It’s dark anyway and I gotta go sleep at some point tonight. Yeah, maybe I should just go.

I almost shifted to get up again but stopped.

Won’t it be even more awkward if I just up and left?

Daryl’s shoulder brushed mine as he shifted and I glanced over.

Why does he look so calm? Is it really just me over thinking?

I didn’t realize I was staring at him until he spoke, tapping my shoe with his charred stick.

“What are those?”

What’s wha—? I met blue eyes before I looked at my shoe, tilting my leg to see the thick lines carved in the side of the sole of my left boot.

A small part of me was grateful for the distraction but never in my lifetime did I think I’d forget about these. Hell I haven't been in the system for how many years? and I still put ‘em on my boots when I got these years ago.

9 lines, carved into the side of my black sole.

My fingers grazed over the marks before I even realized I’d reached for them. “9 homes”

Floods of bittersweet memories from each one poured through my overworked head but the memories didn’t bring the same sort of hurt they used to. Truth be told, sitting here now, it almost feels like it happened to a different person.

Like a movie, I remember most of it, but I don’t remember how it felt.

I’ve put a lot of distance between me and those days.

“Were they all...” I looked over as he trailed off and watched him half shrug. “You know…?”

“Bad?”

He nodded, offsetting his jaw a little as he chewed on the skin of his bottom lip. Something I’ve noticed he does when he’s curious.

“Pretty much” I leaned my head back against the tree, looking up. “Some were worse than others but only one was anywhere near decent. On the bright side at least I got over my fear of the dark. On the dark side, it just transferred to confined spaces.” I looked at the fire, trying not to think about it too much.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why d’ya get claustrophobic?”

“Ah” I licked my lips. This is a fun story. “When I was about 7, I was —like I said— scared of the dark.”

“I was livin’ in this house that already had bio kids of their own. Two of the older boys —teenagers— and they didn’t like having another kid in the house. So when their parents went out one weekend, I think for their anniversary, they decided to lock me in the shed behind the house. Cheese brains left me there overnight.”

I saw Daryl trying to hold back a smirk at my creative insult.

“It was a tiny thing, maybe 3 feet wide, 4 feet long, and stacked floor to ceiling with yardwork stuff, tools, shed stuff.”

“There was a storm that night. I don’t know if it was a bad one or just a normal storm, but I remember it shaking the entire shed. Rickety as it was. I never liked storms before that.”

“Why would ya after? Don’t that make it worse?” 

“I thought so too for the first hour or so, but...it was the only thing that broke up the darkness. It was the only sense of time I had. The lightning flashes gave me a second or two of light.” I rubbed my hand on my knee. I can almost feel the dust on my hands.

“I don’t know maybe it was exposure therapy or somethin’ but it was… comforting. Made me feel okay to be alone. You can't smell the dust or the metal rusting, through the rain. Felt like I could breathe again.”

Daryl nodded beside me, looking out at the forest line like he understood. Who knows, maybe he does. I haven’t heard anything about his childhood.

“The thunder filled the silence, which probably would’ve made sitting in the dark worse.”

“You, not okay with silence?”

I rolled my eyes, bumping his shoulder with mine but smiled. And don’t you think I didn’t notice that little lip quirk, Dixon.

“What happened after?” he passed me his burned stick as I broke mine in the middle of my dirt drawing.

I shrugged, “By the time the storm passed, I’d gotten used to it. The ease back into darkness was a little rough but even that faded when everything was kinda damp. Not as stuffy as before.”

“You know, that’s probably one of the only times in my life I’ve felt okay in a small space. Without the light and dust, I could pretend I was out in the open. I think I pretended I was sitting on a tree branch or something. Waiting out a storm so I could run home to a warm house. Mom and dad waiting for me. Wondering why I’d been playing out in the rain.”

I haven’t thought about that for a long time. I wonder when it was I gave up on those fantasies? Pretending I had a warm family waiting for me somewhere.

“Weren’t ya cold at all?” He found another stick to burn in the slow dying embers of the fire that's no longer producing flames.

“By morning I was fine.” I shook my head, finally noticing my buns had started to fall asleep from sitting too long.

“I even liked the dark more than the light after that.” I chuckled. “I used to stay up late, just to wander around the house at night, in the darkness.”

“Why?” Daryl looked at me, amused but confused (hey that rhymes).

I shrugged. “I don’t really know, actually. I think it was just... a peace of mind thing. The dark made me feel safe. Still does, to be honest.”

He nodded like he understood again. This time pulling his stick out of the fire pit and just staring at it, blowing a little.

“Kinda funny.” he muttered.

I raised a brow.

“Started out as a sick joke on a kid, turned into jump scares for everybody you met since.”

I smiled. I gotta admit I do see the irony. “Actually I uh… I got yelled at for being noisy at night in my next 2 houses. So I got quieter and quieter, ‘till no one could even tell I was there. At some point It sorta carried over into daylight hours.”

“You know I used to raid the house when everyone was asleep.” I licked my top lip as a bigger smile broke out; reconnecting with 7-9 year old me.

“What for?” Daryl shifted, ready to be amused with the mischievous smile on my face.

“Looking through stuff people would get angry if they knew I had. Looking for sugar most of the time actually.” I scratched my neck and Daryl snorted.

“Why don’t that surprise me?”

“I think it started as curiosity. I always liked knowing things other people didn’t, or didn’t want me to know. But I got really good at finding things nobody wanted found. And on the flipside, hiding stuff was a lot easier.”

“When the other kids made me mad —which was all the time, cause kids— I’d hide their shit after they were asleep. I’m not sure they found all of it, actually.”

Daryl stared at me for a flat second before he tried so hard not to laugh.

I bumped his arm with my elbow while he tried to stop but I laughed too.

It’s good to hear him laugh. I admit it feels just a tad bit strange cause I’m not used to seeing this much emotion that isn’t anger from him, but it is still.

It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve— we’ve actually laughed like this.

“Come to think of it, maybe that’s why I never had friends.”

“Never?” Daryl calmed down from this bizarre giggle fit between us.

I shook my head. “Closest thing I ever had to friends were coworkers who didn’t _ dislike _ me. Feels weird.”

“What does?”

“Having friends. Telling life stories. I never felt the need to share anything ‘bout my life before. I kinda wanted to forget it all at some point.”

“What changed?” Daryl tossed his stick.

A long second passed but after that second was up, I did in fact find a reason.

I turned, looking that reason in the eyes. “I found someone I trust.”


	77. Chapter 77

**3rd Person POV**

“Why me?” It’s about time he got an answer to this question. “I ain’t exactly sunshine and rainbows.”

Eve looked at him, blinking in surprise. “True but if you were listening, you’d remember I said,  _ I like the dark.” _

Daryl blinked, and an amused smile parted the woman’s lips before contentment took its place. “I don’t really know why. It was just kinda… there, one day.”

Daryl could understand that. The same had happened to him.

He remembers just looking at ‘er one day and realizing he trusted ‘er(more like their dynamic was pointed out by a 3rd party, and he put the pieces together later).

“As hotheaded as you can be—” Daryl’s eye twitched but he couldn’t deny it, because he knew it was true. “—you’re honest.”

That took him by surprise. He’d never thought of himself as honest before.

“You don’t try to hide stuff. I mean as far as I can tell.” Eve eyed him with playful suspicion, and earned herself an eye roll and shoulder knock.

“Maybe that’s why.” A thoughtful look crossed her face, pursing her lips. “I never have liked being out of the loop, or things being kept from me. Secrets.”

“Yeah you ain’t too good at keepin ‘em. As soon as ya open your mouth it’s out.” Daryl snorted at the whack on the arm. But he has a point.

Eve doesn’t open her mouth often but when she does, ohhhh lordie-poo. And here she thought she was a vault.

Turns out it’s really easy to keep a secret when you don’t talk to anyone but as soon as someone’s listening, there goes the floodgate.

She’s gotta work on that.

Fire light glinted off amber eyes; never having looked more aflame than now, when she stares into a fire with a smile. But it was a warm flame. The kind that doesn’t burn, yet keeps you from freezing.

Eve yawned, stretching stiff shoulders as she stood; trying to restore blood flow to pretty much her entire lower body.

“Should get some sleep.” Daryl stood, wiping the dust from his hands on his jeans.

Eve nodded in wholehearted agreement, trying to stifle another yawn. She was beat. It’s amazing how exhausting emotions are. Feeling stuff really takes its toll.

“Night, Eve” Daryl went to his tent as Eve started her trek back to camp

“Night, Daryl” Eve gave a halfhearted wave, stepping over uneven ground, as they parted ways for the night.

To some it may have seemed abrupt or felt off but for them, the interaction felt natural; on its way to becoming something of a routine in recent days.

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

I woke up the next morning and as usual, had trouble pulling myself out of bed. But eventually I managed to wrangle my half-asleep mind into auto-pilot.

Getting up, putting on my shoes, tying back my rats nest of a mane, and went out into the morning sunlight, rubbing my tired eyes with a yawn.

Thank goodness Carol & Lori haven’t started cooking breakfast yet, because if I smelled those eggs —or anything else those goddesses throw in a pan— before my run, I would not be able to make myself do it before eating.

And running on a full stomach is not the greatest idea. I learned that lesson the hard way a long,  _ long  _ time ago.

I stretched, warming up, and did 3 or 4 laps around the farm before others started peeling themselves from their cozy tents and getting up for the day, but my endurance is much lower than it used to be.

I don’t remember why I stopped running but it feels nice to get back into the routine.

However, I think I’m going to switch to running at night. Because 1) it’s too early for this. 2) Dragging myself out of bed is harder than I remember. And 3) exhausting myself before the day even begins seems counter intuitive. Tiring myself out before sleep instead of after, seems like a better idea.

It’s a bit of a bummer realizing how rusty I’ve gotten in such a short amount of time. I didn’t think you get rusty at running but apparently it’s possible. That or I’m still half asleep. Which is entirely possible.

It’s coming back quick though, so I guess I’ll just have to be patient and stick it out before I can push myself like I used to.

Which reminds me, I should see if I can find a way to practice MMA again.

I mean, I use it all the time to take walkers down but I’m always using knives or kill moves.

I haven’t used it on a living, cognitively functioning person in a long time.

I don’t want to get used to my opponent's moves being predictable and then not being able to disarm someone, much less without killing them.

Ideally I’d like a sparring partner but no one else here knows martial arts of any kind, from what I know.

The officers might be my best bet there, they probably know some sort of physical combat. They were law enforcement. I could try my luck but Rick’s pretty busy these days, and I don’t think I could keep it to just sparring if I asked Shane.

Maybe a few weeks ago I could have, but not now. I don’t fancy having another panic attack, and let’s be honest, I could hurt someone if I’m armed with so much as a stick, in that state.

For now I might be able to just practice on my own. Starting with the strength training I used to do. I can probably pick up from where I left off. I know I haven’t lost my muscle mass. If anything, I’ve gained some.

It’s my lungs that seem to have fallen behind. They need to get used to working hard again so I don’t run out of breath so quick.

The smell of food caught my nostrils and my eyes drew straight to camp. I can’t see who all is up yet, but that is definitely Carol by the smoking fire, and if I’m not mistaken that’s Glenn by the tree, eating something.

My stomach grumbled as I licked my lips, my foot already moving to take me that way but I stopped myself mid-step.

No. Strength training first, then I can eat.

Another lung full of the sweet smell of food made my mouth water.

Oh gosh, this is gonna be hard.

The rest of the week went by quick, with pretty much the same routine I’d laid out for myself.

I woke up, did my strength training to grant myself food (glorious food~), then hung out with Carl for a bit while Lori did stuff, then Daryl & I went hunting, brought something back for dinner. Camp drama declined a little but we (or should I say they) still got on each other’s nerves like annoying neighbors. I spent most of my time avoiding all that, talking or sitting comfortably with Daryl late at night. Took my run, and dropped like the dead to sleep. Cue cycle repeat.

Dare I say, the boring routine was bliss.

Pure bliss.

I’ve missed boring routines so much I could cry. But nothing lasts forever, and today it came to an unfortunate end.

I’ve had a bad feeling ever since I woke up this morning, and finding out Rick & Shane have already taken Randall out, to cut him loose didn’t help.

“Jesus will ya sit down already.” Daryl grabbed my elbow from the porch railing where he sat, and I stumbled as he pulled me down into the chair next to his knee.

Carl snickered from where he was playing chess with Glenn at the small round table a few feet from us, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

“What are you so worked up about anyway?” Glenn readjusted his cap, glancing over from the board.

I shook my head as my leg started bouncing, my fingers drumming on the chair arm; much to Daryl’s annoyance.

I don’t even know, myself. Something just feels… off, today.

I chewed on my lip, taking a passing glance over the chessboard. “Check”

“Wha?” Glenn breathed, scrunching his face before double taking at the board.

Carl smiled that cheeky evil grin he’s been mastering and Daryl scoffed under his breath; messing with his crossbow.

Anxiety ran rampant as I turned my eyes towards the edge of the property.

“How did you do that?” Glenn finally found the trap Carl’s been setting for the last 6 moves.

The kid giggled mischievously, refusing to tell and I fist bumped him, with my own proud smirk.

I don’t know where the kid learned to play so well but you just got served by a 10 year old, Ace.

“Oh haha” Glenn rolled his eyes, sporting a salty smile, and got up. “Let’s see you play him.”

That’s not a bad idea actually. I need a distraction.

I traded seats with Glenn as Carl reset the board, and spun it so I could play black; Or in this case silver.

I gestured for him to make the first move, letting my chin rest in my palm, and the game began.

Within four moves, I placed my bishop on A4 (or Bishop to Rook’s 5) and announced, “Checkmate”

I laughed at the state of pure slack-jawed shock from both Glenn & Carl. And this time, I leaned over to fist bump Daryl, who held his knuckles out.

Carl got competitive and we played four more times. The longest game lasting about half an hour. Glenn played me twice before he switched back with Carl, and Dale came over at one point to watch.

I semi-taught Glenn & Carl a few strategies that I myself was taught by Jackson; The kid two grades above me in school, who taught me how to play chess when I was a little younger than Carl is now.

We used to play at lunch in the cafeteria sometimes, but usually he came to the house to hang out with the older boys.

Unlike Jackson the Jerk who never  _ once _ let me win when I was a kid, I let— helped, Carl win the final round by not letting him make silly mistakes.

I took my first chess win against JTJ by force, when I was in high school. So I guess it worked out in the end.

There isn’t much time for playing chess nowadays, but I have a different lesson to teach Carl than Jackson did for me.

“Checkmate!” Carl beamed like the sun, shooting up from his seat in triumph.

I held my hand out over the board, like at the end of every round we’ve played and humbly accepted defeat with a handshake.

Seems my work here is done, because I found no trace of smugness in Carl’s excitement after he shook my hand and got up, running into the house shouting, “Mom! Mom! I beat Eve!”

Daryl & Dale both smirked knowingly at me.

“You could have moved your bishop there and beat him like 4 moves ago.” Glenn pointed at the board with a confused suspicious smile.

I smiled, shrugging like and laced my fingers together behind my head.

“Yes. She could have.” Dale pat Glenn on the shoulder as he got up and wandered back to camp.

I pulled the deck of cards from my pocket as T-Dog roamed up with a lazy “Sup”.

I shook the cards, raising an inviting eyebrow at the 3 left on the porch with me and Daryl scoffed, coming off the railing to take up a seat between me & Glenn.

“Blackjack or poker. We ain’t playin’ go fish.”

Glenn & T looked between us with confused laughs and I just smiled, taking the deck out and shuffled all fancy-like before dealing.


	78. Chapter 78

When Rick & Shane finally came back, it was late.

They were bloody, exhausted, and Randall still in the car; duct taped in the trunk.

Seems my persistent bad feeling wasn’t misplaced afterall.

Rick got out of the car looking like all he wants to do is drift back into his coma.

He looked at me and Daryl, while I glanced through the back windshield at the kid. I can’t tell if he’s asleep or not.

“Get him back into the shed.”

Daryl & I nodded simultaneously, and I opened the trunk for Daryl to pull Randall from the vehicle; after cutting the duct tape on his legs of course.

I slammed the trunk, and a whistle had me turning. I caught the flashlight T-Dog tossed, nodding in thanks, and let Daryl handle Randall while I lit the way back to his...unfortunate dwelling.

I don’t like doing this to the kid but I can’t deny that he's a danger. For now this is the only viable option we’ve got, and it’s better than being dead.

I hope he can hold on.

I handcuffed him inside again and Daryl stalked out right away, heading back up to the house.

I went to follow him but as I was closing the door, a bottle near the door caught my attention.

It’s one of ours.

I picked up the plastic water bottle. It’s still half full.

I glanced at Daryl’s back. He hasn’t noticed I’m not following yet.

I chewed my lip for a moment before slipping back inside.

I unscrewed the cap and crouched in front of the kid, holding the bottle up.

He looked back and forth between me and the bottle. I sighed, taking a small sip before holding it back to his mouth and used my eyebrows more than anything to tell him to drink it.

I can’t say when the next time he’ll get a drink will be, but at least this will help.

I waited until he’d chugged the whole thing but I heard boots then, “Eve! Let’s go! What are you doin’?”

I fled the shed, seeing Daryl coming back and I hid the water bottle behind my back, subtly dropping it back where I found it.

“What were ya doin’?” he glanced at the shed door.

I put on a sheepish smile as I held up the padlock for the door and motioned to the shed.

“You left the lock inside.”

I locked the chain and scratched my neck.

He watched me with skeptical eyes but I motioned at the house and started walking. I watched him give one more lingering glance at the shed before moving to catch up with me.

Don’t ask me why I felt the need to hide the fact that I gave the kid some water but this whole situation has already gotten so much more complicated than it needs to be, I don’t want to trudge up any more antimosty over the stupidest things.

I don’t think Daryl would care now that I think about it but still. I guess some part of me just doesn’t want to risk another fight. And it’s not like it’ll hurt anyone keeping this to myself.

When we got back up to the house, Glenn filled us in on what we’d missed.

According to Rick, this whole thing blew up in their faces the minute they left the kid in a school parking lot.

I didn’t think there was a school other than the high school within 18 miles of this farm, and I thought we agreed over the week that they’d take him 18 miles out and leave him, but knowing Rick, that plan may have changed while they were on the road.

I hope that’s the case to be honest. It’d be good to know he still has a conscience despite presiding over Randall’s life right now.

As for why they brought him back? Randall claims he went to school with Maggie.

He knows where the farm is, he knows who her dad is, her family, everything.

Oh and did I mention Rick has been watching Shane like a hawk since they got back? They both seem to be even more on edge with one another.

Something tells me they didn’t give us the whole story about what happened out there today— Hell it was hardly even a synopsis.

This just gets better and better doesn’t it?

A deep sigh whooshed out my nose as I rubbed aching eyes with my fingers.

And the worst part? That bad feeling in my gut hasn’t dissipated in the slightest. If anything this sinking feeling is getting even worse, and I don’t even know what’s causing it much less what to do about it.

* * *

**3rd Person POV**

Early rays of dust beamed sunlight streaming through the cracks in the old wooden plank walls of the old shed.

Eve stood in the corner of the small structure, watching Daryl punch Randall for the 8th time. This time knocking him off the chair the kid was sitting on.

Randall cried out as his shoulder took most of the impact, and twice more with each of Daryl’s following fists to his near pulverized face.

“I told you” Randall rasped desperately.

“You told me shit!” Daryl grabbed him by the shirt, ramming him against the wall as he harshly sat the young adult up.

“I barely knew those guys. I met ‘em on the road” Randall was desperate, trying to cooperate without betraying his old group; in the event they roll through here and rescue him he didn’t want to be seen as a traitor.

But the man who’d been beating him since he was harshly awakened this morning, has a way of getting answers sooner or later. And Randall honestly was starting to question whether it was worth protecting the people who left him behind at this point.

In the end, he didn’t fancy staying here either. Not like this.

“How many in your group?” Daryl stalked around the room, pacing back and forth in the small open space between the table which Eve was beside, and Randall on the ground propped up against the right wall.

Randall sputtered for breath, rolling his head on the wall. He can’t give up anything. If those guys come through here and find out he talked, they’ll kill him first.

Daryl’s eye twitched as he reached for his side. Randall’s eyes grew wide, locked onto the hunting knife Daryl slowly pulled from its sheath.

“No no no no no no no no no. Come on, man.”

Randall yelped as Daryl lunged forward, slamming the knife into the floor right between Randall’s knees.

“How many!?”

“UH, 30” Randall finally yelled. “30. 30 guys.”

“Where?” Daryl growled.

“Uh...” Randall looked down for a fraction of a second too long for Daryl’s liking.

Randall screamed as the bandage over his knee was ripped off.

“I don’t know. I  _ swear _ ” he shouted through grit teeth. “We were never any place more than a night”

“Scoutin’?” Daryl slid the tip of his knife into the edge of the destroyed flesh. “Plannin’ on stayin local?”

“I— I don’t know. They— they left me behind” Randall’s voice became more desperate and pleading by the minute. Any hope he had of getting out of this, long gone.

“Did you ever pick off a scab?” Daryl turned Randall’s leg, sliding the knife along the seam of slowly healing skin.

“Come on, man! I’m— I’m tryna cooperate.” Randall honest to god could not answer the man’s questions if he wanted to. He couldn’t think, and the anticipation of pain was almost worse than it actually happening.

It hurt so bad. He just wanted it to stop.

“Start real slow at first.”

Randall grunted, trying his best not to cry out again at the painfully tight grip the man had on his calf.

“Sooner or later you just gotta  _ rip it off _ ”

“Okay!” Randall jolted against the wall with the force of his shout.

“Okay. okay. They— they— they have weapons.” Randall stammered out. “Heavy stuff, automatics.”

“But I didn’t do anything” Randall grit his teeth again, his shoulders knocking against the wall as he squirmed, failing all pitiful attempts to move his leg at all, much less away from the man crouched over his feet in front of him.

“Your boys shot at my boys. Tried to take this farm.” Daryl growled, anger eyes fixed on Randall. “You just went along for the ride. Yer tryna tell me yer  _ innocent _ ?”

“Yes!” Randall yelled, heavy breaths coming rapid and labored. “These— these people took me in.”

“Not just guys a— a whole group of ‘em.” He rambled on. “Men and women, uh— kids too, just like you people. Thought I’d have a better chance with them, you know.”

“But uh, we’d go out. Scavenge. Just the men.”

“One night, we found this little campsite” Randall breathed heavily, trying to swallow the taste of blood in his mouth, and reign in the fear over his mind to recall the event. “A man and his two daughters— teenagers, you know?”

“Real young.” He looked at his scuffed, bloody boots. Before dragging them up to the tormentor who’d returned to pacing at his feet. “Real cute.”

The atmosphere changed in a single heartbeat.

Daryl could  _ feel _ Eve tense; recalling the story of the girl in the foster home she’d told him about.

Flashes of the older girl drowning in her own tears in Eve’s young arms, brought a tension to Eve’s muscles she hasn’t felt in a long  _ long  _ time. Her core tightened so hard she could have puked or deflected bullets off the rigid muscle.

The slow manner in which the two dangerous people before Randall turned, was excruciating, and set every single hair on his body standing on end.

Two sets of lethally calm eyes moved over the room tracking right to the bleeding man, fixating like predators.

If he was scared before, his mind wouldn’t even let him think about what was coming.

“Their daddy had to watch while these guys— they—” Sheer terror spurred his nervous mouth on, no matter how much his brain told him to shut up for his own sake.

“And they didn’t even kill him afterwards.” Randall shook his head. “They just — they just made him watch. His daughters—...”

Against his better instincts, Randall was pulled into the memory. Unaware his far off gaze had fixed near the door. “Just— just— just left ‘em there.”

Evelyn’s boot shifting snapped him back and his eyes immediately flicked back to Daryl. His head violently shaking back and forth, the scraping of his head against the wood being the least of his problems, when he saw the way Daryl was looking at him.

“No, but-but— but I didn’t touch those girls. No, I swear I didn’t to—”

Daryl’s leg whipped back and slammed into the side of Randall’s knee and he screamed, falling onto his side again.

Stammering “Please” over and over.

“You gotta believe me, man.” Randall muttered, crying. “I’m not like that.”

“I ain’t like that” Randall couldn’t stop it anymore. He’d finally reached the point where it hurt too much and he was too scared not to cry. “Please, please. You gotta believe me”

Randall screamed as another full-force kick landed on his knee.

Daryl’s arm whipped back, aiming for Randall’s face but he almost stumbled when his arm was caught at the elbow.

He swung around, furious eyes coming level with intense amber.

Evelyn stared him down, waiting until the pure rage faded even a little, and shook her head.

She jerked her head at the door, and Daryl went rigid, glaring back at Randall.

Eve squeezed his shoulder and he stormed out; knowing she would not give him a third warning. As fuming as he was, he still remembers the decking Merle got and didn’t fancy getting one himself.

Daryl waited outside, cooling off by jabbing his knife repeatedly into anything nearby. The tree, the side of the shed, the dirt.

As soon as Daryl was gone, Eve turned to Randall.

Randall couldn’t breathe. He hadn’t given much thought to the woman in the corner with the man beating on him but at that moment, he knew what it truly meant to fear for your life.

Even when he thought he was gonna be left to the roamers he had not been this scared.

The fact she has not said a word, or done a thing up till this moment, made it all the worse; his brain  _ his  _ run-your-mouth-nervous brain  _ shut down _ in the face of this woman— no he can’t even call her that. It’s too normal sounding.

He’d rather the man beat him to death.

At least then he would know what was waiting for him.


	79. Chapter 79

**Eve’s POV**

Nothing strikes more fear into the hearts of men, than the unknown.

When people are afraid, they’re irrational. But that can be used to your advantage, if you know the right points to press.

I didn’t say a word, even with Daryl gone from the room.

Merely leaned against the table across the small room from Randall, and motioned for the boy to continue his babbling.

He didn’t need much prompting as he rambled on for almost another two hours. Telling me about his group, and spilling more than he thought with his reckless language.

When you hear as much bullshit as I do, your skills of sorting through it max out.

Randall’s not a great liar in the first place. Maybe good enough to fool some, but not someone as adept at taking cues from body language just as much as the actual words being said.

Some people aspire to this sort of skill, but it doesn’t work quite like they think it does, I imagine.

Telling when someone is lying, is like speaking to someone whose native language is not your own. It’s obvious when they mispronounce a word, or think it means something else, and you know that’s not what they meant but you can pull from context to figure out what they’re actually saying.

At least, that’s how it is for me. I can’t speak for anyone else. I am by no means a professional at this but I’ve been doing it for the better part of 20 years.

Just as I predicted, the kid’s a lot more chatty now that Daryl’s out of the room, and his face isn’t being beaten in every ten seconds.

I don’t have to do a thing to the boy, other than stare him down, listen.

If he strays from the information I’m after, all I have to do is give my blade a little twirl; let the steel catch the light and off he goes. Herding thoughts like cattle is easier than I thought it was gonna be.

This is why psychological warfare is so dangerous. And so much more effective.

I’ve been in the corner this whole time, listening, thinking. I knew torture wasn’t gonna work. Torture never reveals solid info, but the anticipation of pain is much worse than pain itself.

Randall is all too talkative; I noticed it during Daryl’s go at him.

He talks about as much as I don’t. Even now, rambling on about some dog that inadvertently saved his life when all this started.

If I just let him talk and he’ll give me anything I want. Whether he means to or not.

And the poor kid can finally rest.

It’s been hard not getting involved up to this point. I was against hurting the boy from the start— still am.

Daryl’s way is through his fist, mine is much less invasive. And leaves far less damage.

I only wish I could’ve used my way without Daryl having to scare the kid like this first.

I shouldn’t have lost my head when he mentioned that little camp. I let Daryl beat on him when I shouldn’t have.

I may not know what it’s like to be in Randall’s position, exactly, but I can’t help putting myself in his shoes.

It’s fairly obvious I’m the only one who’s bothered to look at things from his point of view.

Otherwise the others wouldn’t be so rough or suspicious of the kid. That in and of itself has its perks and drawbacks, but there’s a difference between being cautious and what we’ve done to this boy _ . _

These people Randall’s betraying by talking to us, are the ones he’s survived with.

He & his friends went to find some of their group that hadn't come back; just like anyone would. Only to find they’d been killed by a bunch of people in a bar.

Lost another friend not ten minutes into the shootout that followed.

His remaining buddy told him to jump from a rooftop and the kid piked his leg on a fence on the way down.

That same friend left him for dead. A person he trusted to watch his back and get all of them home safely, left him to be eaten alive.

That may be the reason he's giving us anything at all.

The people who could have left him to die, who he shot at and who murdered his friends, are the ones who saved him.

We were the only help he was gonna get and at least two of us, refused to leave him behind for the walkers. Whereas his own friend did exactly that.

That sort of betrayal is not something you forget. No matter how hard you try. There’s always that little voice in the back of your mind, wondering when they’re going to do it again. Waiting for the moment they abandon you, and you prepare for it.

You’re looking for it in everything they do; especially when the stakes are high. You’d be stupid not to.

Us on the other hand... We patched his leg up after killing two—  _ three  _ of his friends and have been keeping him prisoner for days.

So we must want him alive, and now he finally knows why. Information.

He's been here, alone in this dark shack, day & night. Tied up, in pain, scared out of his wits every waking second. Wondering what’s gonna happen to him.

Wondering which breath will be his last, what we planned to do to him, and somehow still managing to sleep; however little it might have been.

Not knowing if he’s gonna live to see the sunrise again.

How a person thinks when they’re afraid, is not difficult to work out.

It’s easy to tell by the way he looks at the door. Watches the cold sunlight streaming between the cracks in the boards of this rickety place.

Praying to a god he may or may not even believe exists, that his people will somehow figure out he's still alive, where he is, and be so inclined to take on ludicrous amounts of danger from an unknown group of  _ god knows _ how many people, to which they know nothing about, and rescue him.

Assuming his friend didn’t just assume he’s dead in the first place; But give me one reason why he wouldn’t?

I’m positive Randall knows he's clinging to a delusion, but it's all he’s got right now. Even though he knows there's a better chance of having a snowball fight in Hell. (that’d be crazy awesome)

I know. I’ve been there.

This is how he’s been living in this shed, while everyone out there argues among themselves about how scared  _ they _ are of  _ him. _

Right up until this morning, when an unknown man and a —maybe— somewhat familiar woman he once tried to kill, came in; with another set of unknowns for the day.

We spent the last hour interrogating him; beating information out of him when he didn't give it up.

When he finally started to cooperate, he was hit again.

What sort of message does that send? About what happens when he does talk about his future, about his chances of avoiding more pain, —about  _ us _ .

I know a lot about how people think.

He’s not gonna be inclined to do us any favors if this treatment continues. And if his group is as tough as he claims, we’re gonna  _ need  _ that help whether we like it or not.

Never mind if we trust the kid or not.

People aren't stupid, but they are wired to their own primal instinct.

If you reward behavior, it’s repeated. If you punish it, it’s avoided or stops all together.

If doing something hurts bad enough, they’ll avoid it any way they can; until dire circumstances befall them.

If something feels good enough, they'll do it 'till they drop. And some might even go so far as to do anything in their power to get it back. That’s what we call addiction, and love.

* * *

Randall finally ran out of things the ramble about and a silence lulled for the first time this morning.

I took a breath, tucking my own mind wanderings away in order to organize everything I’d learned.

I haven’t been listening too closely these last few minutes but I did tune in every few seconds but Randall gets side tracked a lot.

He’s a nervous talker, that’s for sure. I knew a few people like him back in the day.

He’s looking at me now, with the eyes of a scared kid.

I don’t know what everyone else is seeing when they look at him. But all I can see when I look at this teenager, is a scared kid in an insane world; whose lost more than anyone should have to bare but sadly most of us do these days.

I was one of the lucky ones. I had no family to lose, nor any close friends to worry about. Nobody but my lonesome to look for.

When all of us were chucked into the deep end with this, I just started swimming.

It’s too easy to forget sometimes, that most were not so lucky.

I pushed off the table and Randall tried to move back from me. He flinched as I crouched in front of him; trying to be slow and predictable to not scare him anymore than we already have.

“Please don't hit me” he whimpered, and my jaw tightened.

For my own sake, I’m gonna pretend those words didn't stir an unpleasant place in my memory.

I pulled a little white pill out of my pocket.

Rick & the others won’t be happy if they find out I snagged this from the house when everyone was asleep; quick & quiet. But I  _ had  _ to.

“Whoa whoa hey— hey— hey—” Randall started to freak out as I chopped a sliver off; Using both hands in a see-saw motion on my blade to make a clean cut.

I took the silver with careful fingers and dropped it into my mouth to show it was okay, just like I did with the water yesterday, before taking the rest between my forefinger & thumb, and holding it out.

“For the pain.”

His startled look is one I’m used to but I’m pretty sure this kid’s heard me speak before(lucky him). I think he was just expecting something different. Granted he was bogged out of his mind in desperation & pain the last time.

Brown eyes flickered between mine and the pill for two lengthy seconds before hesitantly leaning forward, and I dropped it into his mouth.

I stood, grabbing the water bottle off the table and gave him a drink; trying to avoid as many of the cuts littering the kid’s mouth as I could.

I waited patiently, until he’d drunk almost the entire bottle, before screwing the cap back on and setting it back where I found it.

I pulled a granola bar from my jacket pocket. It isn’t much but I managed to swipe it at breakfast. Took it out of my own share of food, but I can afford to do so right now.

We’ve got plenty to eat on the farm at the moment. Surrounded by growing fresh greens, woods for hunting, and animals that provide steady enough streams of edibles.

Put it together and it’s enough to keep us all fed for the time being.

I don’t have much of a choice with how the group treats him right now, but I can at least do this much.

I’m not gonna sit back while a teenager —scared out of his mind— is held captive, abused, and fears for his life while he’s forced to live out things that would make even full grown adults cry.

It makes me sick.

It makes me sicker that there isn’t much I can do about it right now. My opinion may carry some weight with the others but not  _ that  _ much.

No one puts someone else’s opinion above their own, and this is one of those things where everyone has something to say, and they all think they’re right.

That’s part of why I’ve held off until now, because I wanted to save my opinion for when it counts. And yesterday was supposed to be the end of it.

He was supposed to be free of us. Of these headless chickens chasing their tails, vying for control over one another, just so they can feel a little better about the state of the world.

They were supposed to chill the Hell out with him gone, but that changed when they brought him back.

I changed my mind when they came back, he was still with them, and another reason for them to lose their goddamn minds over one stupid teenager, cropped up.

I spent the better part of last night sitting on a log at the main camp’s burnt out fire pit, in the dark. And all I could think about was the night terror I thought I’d left in the dust  _ long _ ago.

About the time I myself —a  _ child—  _ was locked in a dark shed all through the night, while everyone else was tucked up safe in bed. Because to them, I was just another mouth to feed.

“What’s gonna happen to me…?”

My hand reached for his shoulder on it’s own. I honestly don’t have an answer.

I don’t like not having answers.

I’m no exception from the fear of the unknown. But I’m the type of person who will do anything in my power to figure it out.

That’s exactly what I’m gonna try to do for him.


	80. Chapter 80

**Daryl’s POV**

The shack ain’t exactly soundproof, so I listened to Eve try her way through the wall, after she kicked me out.

It took a bit before I was able to come back ‘ere and just lean against the wall without wantin’ to throw the door open. But I’m glad I didn’t when I wanted to.

I’ve no idea what the  _ Hell  _ that woman did to the kid, but since I’ve been listening, he hasn’t shut up.

Keeps running his mouth and she’s just lettin ‘im.

The boy will be goin’ on about something and then he’ll just snap back to what he was saying like he’s been threatened.

I haven’t heard a sound from Eve this whole time though. I wonder what she’s doing to set the kid back on track…

After about ten minutes of him rambling on about some stupid dog, I startin’ to lose my patience.

Only thing that’s stopped me from going back in is the fact he’s still talkin’ and whatever she’s done, she’s getting a lot more outta ‘im than I was.

It’s hard to guess how she did it. Knowing her, she could have  _ anything _ up her sleeve.

I don’t understand why she’s been so nice to the kid all this time. Sneaking him that water the other night.

He and his buddies tried to kill ‘er, and the others. I wouldn’t have saved the kid in the first place. I’d have left him where they found ‘im but not her.

Kid’s lucky it was her & Rick that went to drag that old man’s ass back ‘ere.

Anybody else had gone and there’s no way they’d have brought this doofus back.

Sometimes I think I got her figured out, then she does shit like this and it’s like bein’ stranded in the desert and all of a sudden it starts snowing.

I don’t care what happens to this kid, to be honest. I don’t got no opinion whether he lives or dies.

Way things are goin’ right now, this group ain’t gonna last much longer anyhow.

_ “For the pain.” _ Eve’s muffled voice caught my ear and I turned, listening for anything else but all I heard was crinkling, then the door opened and Eve stepped out.

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

Daryl and I followed the dirt path back towards the camp, where the whole group is waiting to find out what we’ve learned, and I explained what I’d learned on the lengthy walk up.

When we reached the group, Rick jerked his chin towards us and all eyes turned our way.

“Boy there’s got a gang. 30 men. Got heavy artillery and they ain’t lookin’ to make friends. They roll through here, our boys are dead. And our women they’re gonna— they’re gonna wish they were.” Daryl’s paraphrasing deserves an award. It really does, but it made me shift and I only noticed I was rolling my shoulder because Daryl looked at me.

A grim atmosphere descended over the group; the somewhat gloomy overcast morning seeming even heavier than before.

“What did you do?” Carol’s voice filled with an unexpected note of curiosity, as she looked between both of us; mostly Daryl’s bloody knuckles.

Daryl glanced at his hand holding the strap of his crossbow at his shoulder and dropped it to his side, a bit uncomfortable as he moved towards the edge of the group taking up a spot in the somewhat circle that’s been formed by the waiting party. “Had a little chat.”

We should disinfect those cuts sooner rather than later. Don’t wanna risk an infection. He hit him in the mouth more times than he should have.

“No one goes near this guy.” Rick declared as a few of us shifted around. Me & Daryl moving to stand near one of the trees by Glenn.

“Rick, what are you gonna do?” Lori asked her husband somewhat hushed, but I don’t think it was meant to try and hide her words from the rest of us.

“We have no choice.” Rick muttered back to her before speaking a little louder, “He’s a threat.”

“We have to eliminate the threat.” Rick spoke with less conviction in his decision than normal, but my stomach dropped.

“You’re just gonna kill him?” Dale stared at Rick incredulously, almost like a scornful parent who can’t believe what just came out of their kid’s mouth.

“It’s settled.” Rick stated, not looking at our —most definitely— wisest member of the group.

“I’ll do it today.” Rick walked away before anyone could speak, and Dale didn’t hesitate a second to go after him, into the grassy fields.

I don’t think Rick wants to do this anymore than I do, but while everyone else was walking away, I found myself watching Dale yell at him and I know he’s yelling even from this distance, because Dale is only that animate when he’s worked up.

Daryl tapped me on the elbow and I turned. He motioned he was leaving and I nodded, going with him; sparing one more glance at the two in the field, watching Rick walk away.

Halfway back to Daryl’s camp, he glanced at me for about the 10th time and finally asked, “You okay?”

I looked at him and honestly couldn’t answer. I opened my mouth to but an answer isn’t what came out.

“I… I need to think. I’ll see you later, Daryl.”

I didn’t wait for any acknowledgement as I split off from the path; heading towards the quietest corner of this land.

It’s amazing how many acres this place is, how few people are living on it, and it still feels so crowded. So small.

I’ve given up on an idea such as a ‘peaceful’ day without conflict.  _ Something  _ always seems to be going down and I’m so sick of it. All of it.

I keep having to remind myself that I decided to stick this out and try to save my family from pulling themselves apart but the fact that I even have to do that, is foreboding.

I’m not entirely sure this group  _ can  _ be saved. And I can’t  _ stop _ thinking about it.

* * *

**3rd Person POV**

Half an hour after getting back to his distant camp, Daryl heard twigs cracking as he picked out some newly crafted arrows.

He looked over, expecting it to be Eve but scoffed when he saw a white haired old man.

“Whole point of me comin’ up here is to get away from you people.” he went back to what he was doing.

“Gonna take more than that.” Dale didn’t miss a beat.

Daryl could only think of two reasons he’s up here and it’s either because he’s here to ‘ask a favor’ like everybody else who seems to come up here (save for Eve). Or, “Carol send you?”

“Carol’s not the only one that’s concerned about you, your new role in the group.” Dale propped his foot on a log, so he could rest his hand on his knee a bit. Old joints slightly aching from the long walk out here; reminding him he’s no longer the young man he once was.

“I don’t need my head shrunk.” Daryl groaned. The sound reminisce of a stubborn teen not wanting to talk to listen to their parents lecture them.

“This group’s broken. I’m better off fendin’ for myself.” Daryl didn’t bother looking at him and just continued to prep his bow for a hunt. One of the few in the last couple days Eve probably won’t be joining him for.

Daryl had hoped she’d come up here before he left, but…

He sighed.  _ ‘She’s got some stuff to figure out. Could see it on ‘er face. _ ’

“You act like you don’t care.” Dale stated as Daryl reached for his jacket, tucking his partner into the corner of his head that he somehow ended up designating for the sneaky somewhat childish woman.

“Yeah, it's cause I don’t.” He looked at Dale, pulling on the denim jacket & leather vest that’s been accompanying his shoulders as of late; as the weather continues to get colder. Turning back to his gear, fixing the collar, before grabbing his knife from its place stuck in the log he’s been finding himself sitting on.

“So live or die, you don’t care what happens to Randall?”

“Nope” Daryl looked him in the eyes, sliding his hunting knife into the sheath on the front side of his hip.

“Then why not stand with me, try to save the kids life? If it really doesn’t matter one way or another.” Dale tried.

“I didn’t peg you for a desperate son of a bitch.” Daryl picked up his crossbow, gettin’ his hunting stuff ready.

“Your opinion makes a difference.” Dale tried.

“Man, ain’t nobody lookin’ at me for nothin”

“Carol is, Eve does, and— and I am. Right now. And you obviously— you have Rick’s ear.”

Daryl turned and stalked back towards him. “Rick just looks to  _ Shane _ .” He couldn’t keep the venom out of my voice over the man’s name. “ _ Let ‘em. _ ”

Daryl began to walk away again but Dale persisted. “You cared about what happened to Sophia.”

Daryl turned a hard stare on Dale and the old man continued. “Cared what it meant to the group.”

“Torturing people? That isn’t you” Daryl walked back towards him.

“You’re a decent man. So is Rick” Dale jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. His near pleading gaze didn’t phase Daryl in the slightest.

Daryl’s face fell neutral, and for a moment Dale noted the resemblance to Evelyn’s calm, calculative demeanor.

“Shane, he’s different.”

“Why’s that? Cause he killed Otis.”

Dale’s face fell grave and he moved towards Daryl. “He tell you that?”

“He told some story — How Otis covered him, saved his ass. He showed up with the dead guy’s gun.” Daryl didn’t want to re-have his & Eve’s entire conversation, with Dale. So he kept it short and to the point; paraphrasing as much as possible.

“Rick ain’t stupid.” he shook his head, staring Dale down. “If he didn’t figure that out it’s cause he didn’t wanna.”

Daryl turned, stalking off and this time no matter what Dale said short of someone dying, he was leaving on his hunt.

“It’s like I said — group’s broken.” he called back to make sure Dale couldn’t stop him again.


	81. Chapter 81

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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**Eve’s POV**

At the sound of footsteps, I looked over my shoulder from my crisscross seat on the grass a fair way behind the house.

Dale waved, coming to stand in front of me.

“Rick’s given me the day to talk to everyone. Try to change some minds about the boy, Randall. Try to save his life.”

I perked up, sitting straighter and Dale’s eyebrows raised. A somewhat relieved smile coming to his face.

“I take it, you’re with me on this?”

No I’m totally on board with murdering a teenager who probably has all sorts of trauma by now. I nodded, maybe a little too enthusiastically; I heard my neck pop.

“Can I count on you to help me convince the others?”

I nodded, standing up.

“I’m gonna try to talk some sense into Glenn next. Care to join me? He might listen to you more than me.”

Listen to _ me _ over _ you _? Hah! Good one.

If he doesn’t listen to you, he won’t listen to anybody. You don’t give yourself enough credit, Dale. There’s a reason most of us don’t tangle with you.

I don’t know how I feel about admitting it, but you scare me sometimes.

* * *

I ran a hand through my gross hair, pulling it away from my face. I left my hair tie in my tent. I need to dip my head in a bucket of water or something.

I can’t believe things have gotten this bad.

I sat on the log at Daryl’s empty campsite, waiting for him to come back from his hunt so we can gather up with the others.

Dale said he already talked to him, and Daryl should be back before dark anyway.

I don’t know if this situation is salvageable. Things are worse off than I imagined.

When Dale told me Rick gave him a chance to talk to everyone, I thought there was still a chance to save the kid.

But everyone we talked to today, has either been indifferent like Hershel, gung ho for homicide like Shane (nor surprise there; I didn’t even both talking to the man with Dale), or unsure where to fall like T-Dog and most of the others.

At least T is smart and has actually thought about why he is where he stands(Thank Merlin’s beard); Less scared and more concerned by the actual facts. Not some self-told bs like, ‘I don’t feel good with him around. He’s scary’.

At least T’s being reasonable about the whole thing. So far, not many of the others have.

The way we left things, he still isn’t on our side but he’s agreed to at least hear out the argument that’s no doubt gonna happen when all of us cram ourselves like sardines into the house in a little bit to discuss.

He’s on board with whatever the group decides as a whole.

Talking to him kinda reminded me the importance of being impartial in a situation like this.

I don’t wanna kill this kid, I hate the way he’s been treated, I hate how everyone has reacted to his presence, and I loathe the way this whole thing is and has been handled, but what I want is not the primary concern.

Their reactions aren’t unreasonable.

Blown way out of proportion, — _ maybe _. But not unfounded.

I’m not the only person uncomfortable with killing a kid, T & Glenn, even Maggie proved it. But I’ve let myself get too emotionally invested.

As much as I wanna save the kid and give him a chance, the other’s may be seeing something I’m not. Whether it’s because I’m too close to the issue, or because I’ve seen reflections of myself & so many others in the kid, or maybe because I take pity on him — I don’t know.

I need to take a step back. He’s a kid, but he’s still a functional human being who _ does _ pose a sort of threat still.

Never judge a survivor until you know what they did to survive. I more than anyone should know looks can be deceiving, that’s how I survived the homes.

‘_ Sometimes we have to do things we don’t like. It doesn’t have to make us feel good, but it’s gotta be done.’ _My mma teacher’s words rang from the subtle corners of my mind as a watched a bug crawl into the empty fireless campfire pit.

I don’t want to kill him. I don’t want him to die. I don’t want us to be the ones to do it.

But… what I _ want _ doesn’t matter as much as what we _ need. _

“It time?”

I jumped two feet in the air, as Daryl walked up from the forest; coming _ this _close to being the one doing the impaling for a change.

He raised his hands and the —_ legh _— furry burnt cabbage rodents, in surrender but he didn’t stop walking towards me.

He must have some kind of confidence. I almost let this knife have a nice flight and plant itself in his eye socket, and he didn’t even blink.

The more important thing though is…

_ I’m _ supposed to be the sneaky one here.

Me. Not you.

Quit stealing my job, you spatula.

It’s one of the few positions left standing after the apocalypse. And it’s paid in boredom relief_ . _

He motioned and dropped his kills on the log I had been sitting on before he decided to take a gamble with his life on whether or not I’d realize it was him in time to stop my own reflexes.

Now I know what it’s like to be on the other side of this.

I don’t like it. Switch back with me.

Daryl set down his crossbow before heading off, and we back to the house in silent oranging light.

I’m tense, but I don’t know how he isn’t. Maybe he is and just isn’t as much as I am, and I’m only noticing it because I’m more tense than usual and—

“Hey. You good?”

I nodded without thinking and Daryl stopped; causing me to stop as well and look at him, trying not to chew my lips because call me paranoid but I think he’s pegged that habit.

“You sure?”

I opened my mouth to respond but nothing came out.

“Ain’t nothin’ you can do about it if this don’t go the way ya want it to. Whatever happens in there, ain’t on you.”

“How did you know I was…” _ Eve speak _!

Daryl continued past me and after my brain caught up and my jaw finished hanging open, I jogged after him; flying up the steps straight past Carl, Lori, and Rick who were headed up the spacious deck as well.

I followed Daryl’s back around the corner to the largest space in the house aside from the dining room; the living room.

From the moment I set foot inside and got a view of the whole room, I saw it. On their faces.

They've already decided.

Everyone gathered up in the living room, as the door closed for a final time behind Lori.

We’ve lost before it’s even begun.


	82. Chapter 82

This whole meeting is gonna be one big guilt wipe from their consciences, and a talk to prepare themselves. Make them feel better about what’s about to happen— what they’re about to do.

I’ve seen it before.

Never with something as serious as this, but looking around this room… all I can see is the same expression I saw around the older kids who were fairly new to the system.

New to the idea of being criminals, and had to psyche themselves up before going out to do something.

Except Shane.

He has the same expression as the veteran kids. The ones who were almost 18 and about to be  _ real _ criminals. Join gangs, getting the system off their backs and about to spend the rest of their lives “taking what they want.”

It was foolish to believe we could change everyone’s minds in a single day.

There’s a surplus of stubborn big headed people in this group, who all think their word is the right one.

It’s why there are so many fights. People always clashing, getting into pissing matches.

If that isn’t enough, most of them are the ones making decisions. The rest just plain don’t want to be involved. We’ve got too many people with too much to say, and too many who are willing to just watch them squawk their hearts out.

Preaching the shittiest ideas like their words are gospel.

I’m not blaming them for being scared. I’m not trying to make light of the situation, they all have legitimate concerns. I should know. I’ve been here, right in the thick of it this whole time.

But Randall’s scared too.

Why can nobody else see that?

I stood beside Daryl who leaned against a small shelf drawer thing, behind Rick, who was leaning against the back of the sitting chair on this end of the room.

The others are spaced out evenly throughout the entire circumference of the room. Some standing, some sitting, most leaning against various things such as walls, chairs, or tall furniture, but the atmosphere is so thick and uncomfortable you could choke on it and not so much as a sound would be left of you.

Rick looked back at me and Daryl behind me, and I followed his, Daryl, and Lori’s gaze to my left, where Carl was standing just behind me.

He sighed with a bitter expression, and went down the hall, towards Beth’s room. Where she and Jimmy should be, as they and Carl are the only ones not participating in this; all of them being under 20.

I don’t think they should hear a conversation like this, much less be apart of one, but maybe if they were, people would be more reasonable.

It’s like being encased in tar. You know there’s no getting out. You know you’re not gonna make it, but it’s a torturously slow death; squeezing every last drop of hope from you as slow as possible, until you’re drained dry. Before finally bursting.

And the worst part is, I don’t even have to try. I already know. There’s nothing I can do to stop it.

The moment the door down the hall shut, Glenn started off tentatively, “So how do we do this? Just take a vote?”

“Does it have to be unanimous?” Andrea glanced around. I forgot she was a lawyer before this. This probably isn’t anything new to her.

“How about majority rules?” Lori offered from the doorway she leaned against, on Daryl’s other side. Blocking the door to the porch.

“Well, let’s— let’s just see where everybody stands. Then we can, talk through the options.” Rick stated, taking control of the conversation before too many ideas get tossed around.

“Well, the way I see it,” Of bloody course  _ he’s  _ the first to open his trap. “There’s only way to move forward.”

When does this ex-officer  _ not  _ have something to shoot off about. 

“ _ Killing him. _ ” Dale snapped. “ _ Right? _ ”

“Why even bother to take a vote, it’s clear which way the wind’s blowin’.” So Dale caught on too.

“Well, if people believe we should spare him, I wanna know.” Why, Rick? You’re the one who sentenced him this morning. Aren’t you advocating for this course of action, as much as everyone else?

“Well, I can tell you it’s a small group.” Dale stared at the obstructed horizon for a few seconds, taking control of his breathing. “Maybe just — me, Evelyn, and Glenn.”

My name seemed to turn a few surprised eyes my direction. But I was too focused on Dale’s change in expression as soon as he looked at Glenn, sitting on the piano bench between us with his back to me, on Rick’s left.

“Look, I— I think you’re pretty much right about everything, all the time, but this—”

“They’ve got you scared.” Dale pointed towards the majority of the room.

“He’s not one of us, and we’ve — we’ve lost too many people already.” Glenn reasoned but he sounds like a skittish teenager defending why his grades are so low without actually having a solid reason.

“How about you? Do you agree with this?” Dale looked across the room at Maggie and Hershel.

“Couldn’t we continue keepin’ him prisoner?” Maggie caved.

“Just another mouth to feed.” Daryl spoke up beside me.

Even if I don’t like it, he has a point.

“It may be a lean winter.” Hershel interjected.

“We could ration better.” Lori added, looking to her right at the old man; playing with her necklace.

“Well, he could be an asset.” Dale argued. “Give him a chance to prove himself.”

“Put him to work?” Glenn offered. Good, he’s still semi-on board with the idea of not killing someone if we don’t have to.

“We’re not letting him walk around.” Rick refuted right away.

“We could put an escort on him.” Maggie offered, her voice the strongest it’s been since we started talking.

“Who wants to volunteer for that duty?” Shane’s condescending tone had my hand raising in half a second flat.

I tapped my foot on the hardwood floor at the same time, just so those with their backs to me (mainly Rick), would turn and see.

“I will” Dale also volunteered.

“I don’t think any of us should be walkin’ around this guy.” Rick put his hand up to stop the argument from getting more heated.

He can barely walk on his own, the Hell do you think the kid’s gonna do? Pull the old ‘what’s that’ trick and disappear like the last cookie in existence? (Which I would totally have nothing to do with. Nothing at all.)

“He’s right. I mean I would trust Eve more than anybody to watch this guy but I wouldn’t feel safe unless he was tied up.” Lori backed her husband, of course.

“We can’t exactly put chains around his ankles, sentence him to hard labor.” Andrea crossed her arms. That, I am actually in agreement with. A rare thing when me and this woman are on the same page.

“Look, say we let him join us, right?” Shane spoke reasonably for  _ once _ . “Maybe he’s helpful, maybe he’s  _ nice. _ We let our guard down and maybe he runs off, brings back his 30 men.”

Daryl looked at me but he doesn’t have to. I’m not irrational. I’m more than capable of putting my personal feelings aside for the man and admit Shane makes a good point there.

“So the answer is to kill him to prevent a crime he may never even attempt?” Dale argued, but he’s getting too emotional. This isn’t gonna end the way he —or I— want it to.

“If we do this, we’re saying there’s no hope. Rule of law is dead. There is no civilization.” I know you’re upset, Dale. But the civilization you think is still alive, might as well be a walker. Dead but still vying.

“Oh my god.” Shane muttered under his breath, turning his back somewhat, and rubbing a hand over his shaved head.

“Could you drive him further out? Leave him like you planned?” Hershel offered.

That may honestly be our best option. It was a good idea the first time. If Randall had been smart, he’d have let them let him go instead of opening his mouth and letting them know he knew where we were.

Trust me I’ve spent some… quality time with the kid since we saved him, and he isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, if you know what I mean; cringy pun not intended.

Lori shifted in discomfort, rubbing her chest with her hand, the way mother’s do when they’re worried(I wonder why). “You  _ barely _ came back this time.”

Gee, I wonder who’s responsible for that. My eyes directed at Shane.

Rick hasn’t told us what really happened out there, but I’m willing to bet it had something to do with his partner. Everything around here always seems to.

“There are walkers.” Where aren’t there? I’d like to go to that place, please. “You could break down.” Lori continued to list. “You could get lost.”

“Get ambushed” Daryl added another good point. But tell me,  _ how? _

Who is gonna ambush us? These guys don’t even know we’re here, much less when we’d leave, or where we’re going, what we’re doing. It’s not like they’ve got satellite tracking.

If they had that, they’d be on our doorstep already. If they’re interested in us at all. I don’t know why you would be if you had something like that up and running.

“They’re right. We should not put our own people at risk.” Glenn interjected.

We’re already at risk. When are we not? Life is a risk. Always has been. There’s a reason we call it ‘survival’ and not ‘better luck next time’.

“If you… go through with it, how would you do it?” Patricia spoke up for the first time. “Would he suffer?”

“We could hang him, right? Just snap his neck.”

“I thought about that”

“That won’t kill him right away unless it snaps the C2 or C3.” I cut in.

I’m not sure how I feel about my first interjection being the fact that I know this, but I’d rather tolerate the stares and watch everyone look a little sick to their stomachs, than let the kid’s death be the gallows.

“Shooting may be more humane.” Rick nodded, firmly.

“And... what about the body?” T-Dog crossed his arms, scratching his chin. “Do we bury him—”

“Whoa whoa whoa— hold on, you’re talking about this like it’s already decided.” That’s cause they did, Dale.

“We been talking all day, going around in circles.” Daryl did a motion with his finger, starting to pace a little. “You just wanna go around in circles again?”

He sounds tired. I would be too after going for a hunt and coming back to...this.

“This is a young man’s life! And it is worth more than a 5 minute conversation!” Dale shouted, putting his foot down.

“Is this what it’s come to? We kill someone because we can’t decide what else to do with him? —You  _ saved  _ him!” Dale shouted, near hysterical.

“You saved him and now look at us. He’s been tortured. He’s gonna be executed.”

Rick shifted, and the muscles fleshing in his face gave me a  _ little _ bit of hope that he might be swayed. Andrea too from the look of her.

“How are we any different than those people we’re so afraid of?”

I rolled my shoulder, shifting uncomfortably. Dale can’t even imagine how much worse those people are compared to us even though we’re having this conversation. If Randall was telling the truth, we are nowhere near them. Yet.

Glenn shifted, glancing at me and I set my hand on his shoulder, nodding. Looks like he’s back on our side.

I looked around the room at all of the others and pride swelled in my chest, almost bringing a small smile to my lips.

It looks like more than half the group is starting to come around to even just  _ considering _ alternatives.

That is, until Shane opened his lily licking mouth. “We all know what has to be done.”

“No, Dale is right.” Rick refuted and this time I did smile a little. “We can’t leave any stone unturned here. We have a responsibility—”

“So what’s the other solution?” Andrea argued.

“Let Rick finish.” Lori snapped but it went unnoticed to Andrea, as usual.

“We haven’t come up with a single viable option yet.” Andrea has a bad habit of pushing her own ideas and taking no one else into account. “I wish we could—”

“So let’s work on it!” Dale shouted over her.

If there’s one person who can overtake these stubborn people in an argument, it’s Dale. I’ve never seen  _ anyone _ who can shut loudmouths like this man.

“We are.” Rick’s words were nearly clipped again when Carol spoke for the first time. “Stop it.”

All eyes turned to the grey haired woman, who’s been quieter than  _ I _ have during this conversation.

“Just stop it. I’m sick of everybody arguing and fighting. I didn’t ask for this.” You think any of us did? “You can’t ask us to decide something like this.” Why the Hell not? Because you’re  _ uncomfortable? _ You should be.

“Please decide— either of you— both of you. But leave me out.” Carol leaned back against the door once again.

“Not speaking out,” Dale started, firm but not shouting like he was before. “Or killing him yourself. There’s no difference.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Rick put a stop to this, and everyone backed down off each other’s grills.

“Anyone who wants the floor before we make a final decision, has the chance.”

One by one, people who were standing began to sit down. Eyes directed towards the ground and almost no one was looking at each other, aside from me, T, and Dale apparently; whereas we’re looking at everyone else.

I met several eyes but as soon as they made contact, they looked away. Some in shame or guilt, others I can’t decipher.

Nobody spoke for nearly a minute and I finally took a deep breath.

Alright. My turn then.


	83. Chapter 83

I took a step forward, “There's already at least  _ one _ man out there, who's gone back and knows there's a group around these parts.”

“A group responsible for the deaths of a number of their men.” I pointed in the direction of town. 

Confused, alarmed eyes shot to me like I just declared I’m infected.

“He drove off, saving his own skin, and  _ left  _ that kid behind as a human kabob.”

Looks of realization shot between each of the 3 men who were in that fight with me when it all went down. The bullet graze on my shoulder is still healing.

“Whoa whoa whoa—  _ What _ ?” Shane stepped forward and I barely took notice of my hand shifting to the hilt of my knife, but I did register moving my foot half a step back because I didn’t realize that Daryl is standing right behind me now, and my heel made contact with what I assume is his shoe.

“What are you talking about?” T looked at me for explanation but turned his eyes towards Glenn, as the young man groaned.

“Oh my god…” Glenn rubbed his forehead gravely. “How did we forget about that guy?”

“ _ What _ guy?” Daryl pressed.

“There were 2 men other than the kid. We killed one of them, Randall jumped from the roof, but the other man… He drove off before we got outta there.” Rick answered, running a hand down his mouth.

“And you’re just tellin’ us this  _ now? _ ” Shane is near seething.

“It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing we can do about him now, but the point is, Randall is not our biggest threat here.”

“What if they come back for him?” Andrea cocked her hip, her hands swinging up before smacking down against her legs.

“They won’t.” Rick shook his head.

“And why’s that huh?” Shane scoffed incredulously.

“Why would you waste precious resources on going back for someone you barely know, who you believe was either devoured, or is a walker?”

“She has a point. I mean,” Glenn gestured at me. “If they were gonna go back for him, they’d have done it by now.”

“Listen, I know you're scared. You're afraid of being in danger. Of losing what little we have right now, of losing each other... afraid of dying. You —and I— have a right to every last one of those things.” I paused, looking around the room; almost pleading with my eyes. “But none of that will change with or without Randall's pulse. From today to tomorrow, to the next. To however long we’re around for.”

“Right now... there is a  _ scared _ , 20 something kid sitting in a dark shack, alone,  _ chained to a wall _ . Who's friends betrayed him, and he narrowly escaped death only by the hands of those who killed several of the only living he knows —who have been keeping him hostage for  _ days _ while we quibbled amongst ourselves about whether or not his life is worth  _ less  _ than ours.”

Expressions of guilt and contemplation around the room brought me a little spark of hope that I might be getting through to them.

“Maybe you think I'm defending his life, maybe you don't. Everyone has raised valid concerns, and made good points. But what we’re deciding here is not whether or not to kill the boy.” I looked at Dale specifically, when he went to open his mouth, so he’ll let me finish my point.

“We’re deciding whether or not we  _ can  _ take the risk of keeping him alive.”

“He’s a threat” Shane stated for what must the hundredth time.

“Nobody is debating that. But he is not our  _ biggest _ nor the only threat out there.”

“It’s never a bad thing to have an extra set of hands nowadays. The boy’s not going anywhere, not on that leg. We don’t  _ have _ to have all the answers right away.”

“Can you name one reason, in light of understanding from his point of view, that would cause him to  _ not _ want to cooperate with us?”

Silence fell over the room.

“Uh, maybe because we’re not his people.” Shane sassed.

“None of us were apart a this group at some point.” Daryl backed me up, thank goodness.

Those who aren't looking down in contemplation, are looking at each other, and at me.

I caught Dale’s eyes, and the sheer relief and gratitude on his face, kills me.

The fact he even feels the need to give me such a look for being with him on this, twists my gut. We— this group, have strayed so far off the path, Daryl might not even be able to help us find it again.

I looked over my shoulder, meeting blue eyes. He stared back before giving a brief nod.

My shoulder’s detensed, bringing my attention to the fact they had been. I hadn’t realized how stressful it’s become when Daryl and I aren’t on the same page.

His eyes flickered to Rick. Who I turned to see looking at me. The deputy held my gaze, but for considerably less time than Daryl.

His eyes moved from mine to Daryl, to Hershel, to Shane, to his wife, before finally turning to his own hands. Something I’ve noticed he does when he’s consulting himself.

Come on, Rick. I know some part of you knows killing the kid isn’t the answer we need.

“We know what has to be done. Why are we still debatin’ this. The boy is a threat with or without that other man out there. It’d be safer not to have this kid to worry about if those guys come knockin’ on our door.” Shane argued, stepping forward.

“Man’s got a point, but... I’d rather not kill nobody if we don’t gotta.” T-Dog, you are a saint. “What if they find out we saved the kid just to kill ‘im later. It ain’t right.”

“What are our options?” Lori raised her fingers,

“We keep him alive and have to use our resources on him.” Andrea provided, folding her arms across her chest.

“We kill him, and be done with it.” Shane aggressively listed.

“Once his leg is healed we could gain another able body.” Hershel input.

“It don’t matter. What it comes down to is, we don’t know this guy. It don’t matter how useful the kid  _ might  _ be. We can’t trust him.” Shane stated. “And on top a that, he’s dangerous.”

And here I thought for a brief moment, this was going well.

Dale stretched his hand towards Rick, “You once said that we don’t kill the living.”

“Well, that was before the living tried to kills us.” Rick stepped forward to the chair he’s been leaning his palms against off-&-on for this entire conversation.

“But don’t you see? If we do this, the people that we were— the world that we knew is dead.”

Okay,... I’m not sure where you’re going with this, Dale.

“And this new world is ugly. It’s…  _ harsh. It’s—  _ it’s survival of the fittest! And that’s a world I don’t wanna live in. And I don’t believe any of you do.” Dale spread his arms towards everyone. “I can’t.”

I think I can safely speak for pretty much everyone left out there, we’d all rather have hot running water, electricity, the option of a 5 star meal if we want it, and not have to sleep with one eye open.

“Please” I watched Dale’s eyes gloss over, on the verge of desperate tears. “Let’s just do what’s  _ right _ .”

The room was silent.

I looked at Daryl whose arms are crossed over his chest, palms loosely resting against his ribs.

“Isn’t there anybody else who’s gonna stand with us?” Dale pleaded.

Long seconds went by like when needles are coming towards me. Until finally, “He’s right.”

My chest heaved with the breath I’d been holding, and for a moment, I saw Amy in Andrea. It was only for a second, but that’s more than enough to make me stop and stare.

“We should try to find another way.” she looked around at the others and it was hard for me not to look at Shane while he stared at the blonde woman, speechless. Like she’d lost her mind.

“Anybody else?” Rick looked around to the contemplative and downcast looks but no one else spoke.

Rick slowly turned to Dale with a look that isn’t difficult to decipher.

Unbelievable.

That’s it?

After all of that— are you  _ serious!? _

“Are y’all gonna watch too?” Dale’s sarcasm was broken up by bitter tears being blinked away.

“No, you’ll all go hide your heads in your tents and try to forget that we’re slaughtering a human being. Whoa” Dale shook his head with a big unstable breath.

I never thought I’d see the day when this man cried. I never wanted to but I can’t blame him. My own throat is so tight I can barely breathe.

“I won’t be a party to it.” Dale headed for the door behind me and Daryl, but stopped next to the blue-eyed man behind me, setting a deliberate hand on his shoulder.

“This group  _ is _ broken.”

And he left.

I looked back at Rick, the rest of the room, Glenn, Daryl... before I followed Dale out.


	84. Chapter 84

**Daryl’s POV**

Rick looked at me, probably watching to see if I’d leave. But I don’t really care one way or another, what happens to this kid. I know Eve does, which is enough of a surprise. She usually doesn’t have an opinion, much less on stuff like this.

I been wracking my brain tryna figure out why but everything I come up with don’t fit. It don’t sound like somethin’ she’d do.

“Alright then.” Rick looked over the group one last time. “Shane, Daryl, and I will take care of it in the barn, tonight.”

I nodded, itching to get outta ‘ere and go find Eve.

By the time I got to the door, Eve was halfway to lord knows where and I had to run after her.

“Eve” I called when I finally got close.

She didn’t stop but I know she heard me. God it’s weird hearin’ her feet make noise.

“Eve, hold up.”

She kept walking and I almost growled at ‘er, catching up.

“I said wait god damnit—” I grabbed ‘er arm, stopping the woman in her tracks.

“Don’t” Eve ripped her arm from my grip but stopped.

I’d be lyin’ if I said it didn’t surprise me. I ain’t never seen ‘er act like this before.

“You good?” I eyed her carefully. I don’ wanna get stabbed or nothin’.

Eve sighed, running exhausted hands over her face before shaking ‘er head. “Thanks for backing me up in there. I know we didn’t see eye to eye on this,”

I slowly nodded, still watching her tryna work out what’s goin’ on. Did she think I’d leave ‘er out to dry?

“I can’t be here right now. I need to leave.” Her eyes turned towards the treeline.

I followed her line of sight and my gut sank a little. “It’s gonna be dark soon, you sure that’s a good idea?”

“It isn’t.” So she knows it’s a bad idea, why the Hell she doin’ it then?

“I can’t be here for this.” She shook her head, not looking at me.

I watched her eyes and the determined set in her shoulders and a more important thought steam rolled everythin’ else.

“You plannin’ on comin’ back?” I tried to keep the urgency outta my voice but a little more than I would’ve liked slipped.

Eve sucked her teeth, glancing at the rapidly darkening horizon. “Yeah”

That was less than convincing.

She looked at me, watching for a few seconds. She pulled one a ‘er knives and held it out to me.

I paused, looking between her and the blade.

_‘Is_ _she serious?’_

She waited, showing no sign of retracting, or walking away.

She would never leave this— oh.

My hand came up by itself and Eve pressed the weighted handle into my palm. The worn grip is warmer than I thought it would be. It’s only been in ‘er hand for a minute at most.

Eve turned not a second after I took it, and I didn’t try to grab her again.

I hesitated but an image of her covered in mud from that hole I pulled her out of was enough to make me get over it. “Don’t go too far.”

She waved in acknowledgment without lookin’ back, but she’s gotta get outta here. That much I understand.

I don’t think either of us have ever spent so much time at camp before this place.

We used to spend most of our time wanderin’ in and out. Huntin’, doin’ runs (her mostly). Neither of us spent an entire day in camp before the farm.

“Daryl”

I turned to Rick, glancing at Shane as he passed me; heading towards the shed.

Rick tilted his head at Eve, halfway through the field already.

“Everything okay?” He glanced at the knife in my hand and I tucked it away. I don’t know why. It’s not like he’s gon’ take it. “I know she doesn’t like this but—”

“It’s fine. We doin’ this?” I started walking, hopin’ for Rick’s sake he don’t try to go talk to ‘er.

I don’t know what goes through her head but It sure ain’t in his favor right now.

Rick caught up to me and during the two minute walk down to the shed, he kept glancing out into the field.

I looked over a couple times, watching Eve disappear into the tall grass. I assume she laid down.

For some reason she always retreats to the floor. I asked her why she looks at the sky once, but I ain’t ever seen her do it durin’ the day before.

She’s been hangin’ around camp too much lately. She gets restless if she don’t wander. She used to do it at the quarry too.

I don’t think she even notices.

“Leave ‘er be.” I avoided stepping in a hole in the dirt.

“What?” Rick glanced at me.

“I know ya wanna go over there. Don’t.” I went into the shed where Shane was already pulling the kid to his feet.

* * *

I held onto the back of Randall’s shirt, pushing him forward behind Rick who had the light, and Shane, as we approached the barn.

As soon as Randall saw we were headed for it, he started to resist. “Hold on, hold on. Hold on”

Rick pushed the door open, heading in first with the 3 of us following.

“Wait, wait —wait” Randall started trying to move away from me, but I pulled him back.

“Put him there.” Rick pointed to a space in the center of the dark barn. It still smells like dead folks in here.

I handed Randall off to Shane who grabbed the kid from behind. “This is all gon’ be over soon.”

“What? What’s gonna be over?” Randall let himself be blindfolded, but he don’t got much choice really.

“Hey— hey!” Randall started to panic

“Just relax” Shane’s monotone is deeper than normal, but he looks too happy about this; even though his expression is “blank”.

Randall started crying, and Shane shushed him like you would for a baby.

I threw a weird look at him while I stood off to the side, but he didn’t see it.

Shane let Randall go and the three of us stood in an unintentional triangle around the whimpering kid. Rick at the head with his Python in hand.

“Would you like to stand or kneel?” Rick’s tone is appropriately heavy but resolved. I can tell he don’t wanna do this but he’s made up his mind.

Randall fussed but didn’t answer and Rick glanced at me.

I stepped forward and grabbed Randall’s shoulders, kicking the back of his knee. He dropped, sobbing as I backed away again.

Rick looked at Shane and I watched him nod before Rick looked back at the kid.

I tried not to shift on my feet but I can’t quit thinking about what Eve said.  _ ‘A scared kid’ _

“Do you have any final words?”

The kid cried louder, sobbing “No, please— don’t” over and over.

Rick raised his gun to the kid’s forehead and as soon as he cocked it, Randall’s crying became more frantic.

“Do it dad. Do it.”

All eyes flew to the doorway where Carl stood, egging Rick on.

Rick looked at Shane in alarm, and I shifted outta the way when Shane stalked past me to the door.

“Are you kiddin’ me? What did I say to you?”

I watched Rick’s resolve crumble in a matter of seconds while Shane dragged Carl by the arm towards the barn doors.

They didn’t even make it out before Rick uncocked the gun and holstered it.

“Take him away.”

As soon as the words left Rick’s mouth, Randall gasped in relief.

“Take him away.” Rick repeated, turning and I jumped on it.

“Get up.” I pulled him to his feet and got him out of there.

Shane shoved the barn door in a fit and stalked back towards camp, clearly pissed.

I walked the kid past Carl, taking him back to the shed.

I almost feel sorry for this kid. Only reason Rick stopped was cause a Carl, and next time, the kid won’t there to save this guy.

This is just prolonging the inevitable.

I barely put Randall back before a scream pierced the air.

My eyes shot to the door and I snatched the lamp off the table, already running towards the screaming in the field, without a second thought.

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

I bolted upright from the grass as screaming erupted and saw a light moving fast through the field.

I don’t even remember standing up before I was flying through the field after it; closing in on the screams, knife in hand.

It wasn’t long before two figures on the ground came into view and I watched the light get thrown to the ground, illuminating a person I’d recognize anywhere tackle one figure off the other.

My lungs felt like they were gonna pop as I got closer. Close enough to see Dale on the ground, covered in blood, and Daryl stabbing lanky shirtless walker through the head.


	85. Chapter 85

Mind running, chest squeezing, throat lynching off my breath, I dropped beside Dale; Eyes locked on the cannonball sized hole torn in his stomach.

The crimson life giving liquid from inside us all, gradually turning his white shirt the color of the wine we all laughed over at the CDC mere weeks ago. 

I can hear Daryl calling for help but it’s muted. Like I’m underwater and the cold nipping at my skin from the night only aids in making me numb as I watched the heat from Dale’s organs clashing with it; creating pillows of steam, resembling a candle that’s just gone out.

My vision blurred as I knelt down, raindrops splattering my hand except there’s no rain.

My chest feeling like it’s trying to pull itself apart, I took Dale’s hand, as his gasps for breath gurgled through his throat.

He jerked with every breath. His diaphragm moving unnaturally doing it’s best to get air to his lungs without the aid of muscle and skin.

Dale’s warm brown eyes filled with unimaginable pain, fixed on mine for only a moment. His hand trying and failing to maintain a grip on mine for more than a few moments at a time.

“Hang in there, buddy” Daryl knelt on one knee on Dale’s other side. I can hear the desperation in his voice. Even if he doesn’t admit it, he respects Dale —all of us do.

I’m not a doctor, but even I know, there’s nothing we can do. It would take a fully functioning emergency room and a team of surgeons within the next few minutes for even a remote chance of survival. And even if we had access to all of that and by some miracle he survived, it still wouldn’t matter.

My eyes drew behind Daryl to the unmoving corpse. A split in the center of it’s forehead going all the way up to the top of it’s skull. It’s hands stained red, the color of the cloth Dale & Jim always wiped their hands on after fixing up the RV or working on the cars.

He’s infected.

I put my hand on Dale’s forehead, holding his hand closer to my chest; trying to give any sort of comfort possible, anything. Even if it’s only taking the pain from 100 to 99.

He’s already getting colder, but his forehead is burning.

Footsteps and drew nearer as I looked at Daryl over Dale. His eyes drew to mine, a broken chaotic desperation held within normally steady blue.

He knows too. It’s too late.

“Oh my god. Oh god.” Rick dropped next to me and a moment later the entire group was swarming around us. Like oil poured into a pan, not enough to cover the center but enough to create a ring.

I moved out of his way, around Dale’s head as Rick took the old man’s tortured face; trying to get him to focus. “All right, just listen to my voice. Listen to me, all right? Just listen to me.”

Dale moaned in anguish, and I set my other hand on his shoulder, squeezing. My mind ripping itself apart for anything I can do but even though I know there isn’t anything to be done, I can’t stop searching.

“Ok, hold on now —Get Hershel!” Rick screamed at no one in particular. Panicked voices and parroting shouts coming in return.

My hands are shaking but not as much as my shoulders as I try to keep the tears out of my vision. My lungs compensating for the lack of breathing by trying to hyperventilate, but I won’t let it.

Andrea dropped beside Rick and I let go of Dale’s hand so she could hold onto him; reassurances spilling from her trembling lips. The same expression she held when she sat beside Amy, twisting tear stained features. An expression I regret to have seen more than once.

Dale’s wild, wide eyes darted around in chaos filled with unimaginable torment.

The only yelling I can understand anymore is the desperate cries for Hershel, stamping feet of those who are caught in between with no clue what to do that isn’t already being done, and heartbreaking promises of ‘help’ that can’t be kept, and ‘hang in there’ that we all know can only prolong the inevitable.

Each one stabs like a knife through the deepest recesses, but what else can we do?

People aren’t designed to admit defeat, even when we’ve already lost. We’re taught to hold onto hope even when there is none.

A strangled sob split from someone in the mess of things and all of the noise suddenly resonated in my ears, the underwater feeling flooding away like water from a damn, and leaving them ringing.

The sound flipped a switch, resembling that of a walker too much to not send my mind reeling back to the thing responsible.

My eyes rapidly flew around for any sign of more walkers that could be making their way towards us now. To take a bi

Empty fields of dark tall grass didn’t ease the adrenaline pumping sweep I was trying to make around the members of the group.

I stood, pulling my knife when I saw something moving but as soon as I was up, there’s another figure running alongside it and I recognized them. Patricia and Hershel.

Daryl spun around, looking as well in the same adrenaline pumped manner I am. 360 later and our eyes met, both of us shaking our heads, in light of our findings.

Even so, it didn’t bring the usual relief.

Eyes catching on the walker laid out on the damp tall grass, I moved towards Daryl on the other side of Dale.

‘ _ Where did this thing come from?’ _

My hand tightened around the grip of my knife. The intense urge to throw it as hard as humanly possible into the skull of an already dead creature washed over me like a maverik.

The only thing that stopped me is Hershel finally parting the group like red sea. “What happened!?”

“What can we do?” I’ve never heard Rick so desperate and helpless —so utterly lost— before.

I found my hand seeking out anything to grab, that isn’t myself. What it took hold of was Daryl’s.

My head began to swim and I latched my focus onto the tight grip around my hand; possibly the only thing keeping me from launching into a full blown panic attack, as I try to take some semblance of control over my rampant lungs and stop the panic kicking my ass.

“Dale, it’s gonna be okay.” Glenn tried to reassure but his own desperation drove him to my side and I dropped my knife to the dirt beside my boot, taking his hand with my other.

He squeezed the life outta my grip and I held tightly; trying to provide as much comfort as I can, but he’s probably helping me more than I am him right now.

The physical contact between the two of the people I trust most helping ground myself and keep my leveling head from tipping. It’s almost poetic how touch used to be the thing that was sure to push me over, and here I am now... using it to hold me down.

“Can we move him?” Rick looked up to Hershel desperately.

The old vet set his hand on the deputy’s shoulder. Eyes nothing but grave and sorrowful. “He won’t make the trip.”

“You have to do the operation here— Glenn get back to the house!—” Rick stood in a flurry but was cut off by Hershel standing with him, “ _ Rick. _ ”

The old man shook his head and that was the last straw for the entire group. Like a broken window scattering shards across a stone floor to be completely destroyed; turned to dust.

“No!” Rick shouted in desperate frustration. Harsh sobs and desperate choking cries seared the air like water in hot oil.

Andrea reduced to weeping, beside Dale who can’t even speak; unable to get anything more than strangled gargled breaths through his throat. One of his organs dangerously close to spilling out of him.

Memories of our last night at the quarry camp, came flooding through my head.

The cold night air, the crying, the shouting from before, Carl clinging to his mother, everything. The only thing missing: gunshots.

“He’s suffering.” I looked at Andrea shaking with tears beside Dale.

“Do something!” her broken cry brought Rick’s gun from it’s holster at his thigh.

He stared down at Dale in grave sorrow and Daryl left my side, letting go of my hand.

I watched through blurry eyes, furiously trying to rub the tears away as he stepped in front of a struggling officer; taking the burdensome gun from his hand.

Glenn turned into my side and I wrapped my arms around him.

“It’s okay to cry.” I muttered into his ear and his shoulders began to shake.

He looks up to Dale like a father and to be honest… I think I might too. I don’t know what it’s like to have a father, but I’d like to think this is what’s it’s like. At least a father figure.

I don’t know why I feel like a big sister, trying to be strong for my little brother like in movies. But I hugged Glenn as tight as I could, trying to do exactly that.

Maggie came over to hug him from behind, and I moved my arm to include her too.

I watched Daryl kneel beside Dale’s head, Rick’s gun heavily in hand... and I shielded Glenn’s eyes. He resisted a little but I pushed his head down against my shoulder as he cried.

He may be in his 20s but I don’t want him to see this. To have this memory. No one should have to.

I rubbed the back of Maggie’s head, smoothing her hair in comfort as she buried her own face against Glenn’s back; both of them almost enclosed in my arms, if I could reach that far.

Dale stared up at Daryl and I watched him lift his head towards the gun; a silent plea to put an end to this.

“Sorry, brother.” Daryl muttered, and Dale’s mouth pressed into a smile.

** _Bang_ **

My ears ring once again but I know that long after it fades, that sound like booming thunder, will echo inside me forever.


	86. Chapter 86

The cold air bite at my skin. The chilling metal from the RV roof pressed into my legs, cooling my legs to a frigid temperature even through my jeans, but none of it mattered.

My eyes stayed fixed on the dark sky, searching for the stars around the sparse groups of clouds rolling softly over the sky.

It’s not cold enough for my breath to mist in front of me but the dampness of the air makes it feel as if ice crystals should be forming.

Every minute or so, I look around, keeping watch for the first time almost since we got here.

We haven’t needed to until now.

And who better suited to do it than someone who won’t be sleeping tonight anyway?

Also why I let Daryl use my tent. I’m not using it and even if I was, we’ve shared a tent before. It wasn’t difficult to convince him it ain’t a good idea to go back to his camp tonight. It’s too far from the rest of us, and he’d be alone.

As much as we both share an adoration for being by ourselves, now is not the time.

Andrea’s soft crying from below me finally ended about ten minutes ago. I actually miss the days when I could cry myself to sleep. At least I could still sleep then.

The RV ladder made a noise and I pulled my gun, looking down but  _ Rick _ is the last person I expected to see right now.

“Can we talk?” he kept his voice low, quiet; not wanting to disturb anyone who’s managed to get themselves to sleep. Truthfully I don’t think many of us actually are.

I nodded and he climbed up, taking my outstretched hand at the top before settling next to me, dropping his legs over the long side of the RV; mirroring myself.

I shifted, looking at him. Waiting for him to speak his mind. “I been thinkin’ a lot about what he said. Dale. And what you said.”

I watched his eyes roam the dark horizon, the barely visible fields. Rick’s pretty easy to read when he’s got something on his mind. He gets really quiet, almost me quiet, and he clamps his jaw shut; tightening it sometimes if he’s wrestling with himself.

“I think it’s time we let go of what used to be.”

I tilted my head, confused but more interested in what he’s thinking. I can take a guess that my face says it for me, ‘What have you got in mind?’

“You know how to protect yourself better than anyone I’ve ever met. I came up here to talk about what we can do to make this place safer.”

This, right here, Rick. Is why I trust you. These moments when you remind me you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. That you don’t sit idle when waters get rough.

“We should start by figurin’ out how that walker got ‘ere.”

We both looked over the edge at Daryl, staring up at us. And watched Glenn come up behind him, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Mind if I join?”

The corner of my lip pulled up and I motioned for them to come up, glancing at Rick who holds the look of leader once again.

The same look that’s been wavering these last few days, but now it’s set back in place. Confident. Identical to the one he had when he was set on rescuing Glenn in Atlanta and tried to convince us to head back.

“Here” Daryl took up a seat behind me, and I spun around, cross crossing my legs to face him. Only to find my knife in his palm, being held out to me.

My hand went to my thigh where it’s supposed to be. How did I forget I gave it to him?

I took the blade, and a tension I didn’t even realize was there lifted from my shoulders. Like a piece of my identity had just been returned to me.

I looked at him and he just stared back for a moment until Glenn settled next to him, across from Rick who also turned around. I nodded at him, feeling my cheek drag up; happy to have the soothing weight back by my side.

“Ok,” All three of us turned to Rick, ready to take back the reins we dropped somewhere along the way.

* * *

The truck jostled, bumping my shoulders into T-Dog’s on my left, and Daryl’s on my right.

The property flicked by as we drove out to the farther corners, looking for holes in the fence.

The truck soon came to a stop and T-Dog grabbed the tool kit, while me & Daryl jumped out. Shane and Andrea exited the cabin, slamming the old blue doors.

Daryl and I acted as senteries for the others, while they checked and repaired the fences.

Dale’s funeral was early this morning and Rick gave a eulogy I honestly think Dale would’ve been proud of, but I can’t stop thinking about what Rick said.

_ “In the end, he was talking about losing our humanity. He said this group was broken. The best way to honor him is to unbreak it. Set aside our differences, and pull together. Stop feeling sorry for ourselves, take control of our lives. Our safety. Our future. We’re not broken. We’re gonna prove him wrong.” _

Ever since then, even though it’s only been a few hours at  _ most _ , things have already gotten more organized.

For the first time in weeks, it finally feels like we’re getting our shit together.

Rick sent the five of us to check and repair any damaged fences and find any other walkers roaming the fields. The mud on the walker’s pants was enough to tell us where to start. The creek. Where they normally get stuck.

When we got there, we found it drying up. And instead of walkers trapped in the mud, Daryl found tracks through it, heading onto the farm lands.

That’s where we’re headed now. Driving over the field, trying to find them.

All of a sudden T whistled and banged the side of the truck, pointing off the side.

I followed his finger to a number of dark silhouettes staggering towards something.

The truck slid to a stop, sliding on the gravel a bit but it didn’t even stop before Daryl and T hopped out, me following right after.

Daryl fired his crossbow and I stepped around him, throwing my knife and watched the walker fall as it sank halfway through the forehead.

Andrea put a 4 pronged farming tool of some kind through another.

The remaining were taken out by T-Dog’s hammer, Shane’s shovel, and another of Daryl’s arrows. Until there was only one left.

One which Shane knocked down, and proceeded to kick.

I leaned over, putting my boot on the throat of the one I took out, pulling my knife out of the thick skull with a gross ‘ _ slick’; _ watching the others kick the shit out of the walker.

Angry grunts and exhausted breaths accompanied every hit I watched them take on the walker. I stood back.

They’re angry. Angry about Dale. Angry about this world. Trapped in cesspool of stress.

I didn’t join in, but I didn’t stop them either. I just kept watch while they all do what they gotta do.

Better they get this out now than to let it fester and feed into their actions later.

Finally they all backed off, Daryl circling back around to my side and Shane brought the shovel down on it.

* * *

“It’ll be tight. 14 people in one house.” I overheard Rick from where Daryl & I stand at the back of the truck.

“Don’t worry about that. With the swamp hardening, the creek drying up…”

I followed Daryl over to the small gathering beside the truck, Rick, Shane, Maggie, Hershel, and Beth all discussing the plans Rick came up with last night.

I know it was last night because I helped him. Neither of us slept, and well… let’s just say the top of the RV was pretty crowded when Daryl and Glenn found us both up there and joined our little planning session.

Heh, ironically it almost felt like that time back in Atlanta. Strategizing a suicide mission for that gun bag; which surprisingly,  _ no one _ died for. Not even G’s people.

I wonder if those guys are still there? Are they holding out?

“With 50 head of cattle on the property, we might as well be ringin’ a damn dinner bell.” Couldn’t have said it better myself, Mags.

“She’s right. We should’ve moved you in a while ago.”

To be honest, there’s a lot of things we could’ve been doing or should have done a while ago. All that matters now is they’re getting done. Finally.

“Alright,” Rick’s authoritative tone ended the discussion before it could side track us; bringing attention back to the tasks at hand. “Let’s move the vehicles near each of the doors, facin’ out towards the road.”

“We’ll build a lookout in the windmill, another in the barn loft. That should give us sightlines both sides of the property.” Ah, my brain child of the ‘midnight plans’.

Simultaneous nods agreed before we started splitting off to do our assigned tasks.

Daryl and I stayed near the truck as Rick stopped T as he was passing by. “T-Dog, you take the perimeter around the house. Keep track of everybody comin’ and goin’.”

“Gotcha. What about standing guard?” T inquired.

“Eve, Daryl, I need you two on double duty.”

We both nodded and I hopped into the truck bed, taking things that were passed to me; helping load all of our camp gear and supplies to be taken to the house.

“I’ll stock the basement with food and water. Enough that we can all survive there a few days if need be.” Hershel came around the back and I took the plastic crates from him, stacking them up securely with the other stuff.

“What about patrols?” Andrea handed me a pile of blankets and went over to stand beside Rick and Shane on the left side of the vehicle.

“Ey, pull that over some” Daryl pointed, leaning over the right side and I pulled a larger box over, watching him stuff a few of the bagged tents in the corner.

We are quite the tetris masters here. Camp is almost completely packed up and 90% of it is right here but the truck’s only half full.

“Let’s get this area locked down first.” Rick answered the blonde. “After that, Shane’ll assign shifts while me and Daryl take Randall offsite and cut him loose.”

Oh this is gonna turn into a shit fight.

Daryl whistled at me shortly and I nodded, jumping off the side of the truck; my knees acting like springs in absorbing the momentum.

Last night during our talks, I decided it’s best to opt out of these fights. It’s pointless trying to stop them. All that’s ever come out of that is getting wrapped up in the web with them. It’s better if I keep to the outside with a blowtorch in case I need to shut something down.

And if Rick can’t handle his partner, no one else can without things getting ugly.

I’ll keep an eye out, from a distance. Rick said he’d handle Shane, and I believe he can, as long as the rest of us start cooperating and are too occupied with more important things to even wanna poke at more drama.

Drama comes from boredom. Can’t be bored if you got too much to do.

“I’mma move my bike, meet ya up at the house.” I nodded and went to pack up the rest of my stuff, as Daryl broke off from me.

My packing is pretty simple. I just stuffed my things back into my backpack and took down my tent before tossing that and the bag over my shoulders.

My backpack is pretty full though, and the strap is wearing. I should look for a new one as soon as I can. A bigger one; more durable if possible. There’s gotta be plenty of packs lying around. Packs meant for the outdoors, or possibly even military grade if I can find something like that.


	87. Chapter 87

I caught up to Rick and Hershel heading towards the house; Andrea not far from them, as T-Dog drove the truck up to the house.

I can see Carl on the porch from here, looking at his shoes and honestly, he looks scared. I don’t think he and Dale were very close but, to see someone you know ripped open like that…

It’s gotta be worse for him than the rest of us. I don’t think Carl’s even killed a walker, much less a person before.

This is the world we live in now. No shelters, no looking away, no kid gloves, no protection aside from the spaces we clear and actively keep that way, ourselves.

I think I’m gonna ask Rick & Lori’s permission to teach him. I can’t stomach the thought that last night could have been any one of us. We thought this place was safe, so we let people wander freely but… what if it had been Carl wandering in that field?

We could have been digging a much smaller grave this morning. It could have been him, could have been my dumb ass laying in the field, Daryl in the shed with Randall; Anybody in camp or outside who looked the wrong way, at the wrong moment.

It helps no one if even one person alive today, doesn’t know how to take care of themselves. At the very least in an emergency.

Carl already knows how to use a gun, but he’s small. That can either be a death sentence, or an advantage.

He’s just a kid but most walkers are full sized adults. If they get ahold of him... there’s very little a boy his size could do, to get them off. It would be better  _ for him _ if a gun isn’t his only protection. I want to teach him how to be fast and unnoticed, and how to break free from a grip.

It might be selfish but  _ I’ll  _ feel better knowing he can at the very least get away, should something happen.

I’ve been thinking about teaching him all kinds of things in passing for a while now, but this morning during the funeral... it hit me. How defenseless he really is. How defenseless most of the group is.

I can only name a few who I know can handle themselves in an up close and personal fight without a gun.

I shouldn’t be able to name anyone who  _ can’t _ .

Daryl’s loud motorcycle passed me and I almost jumped finding Andrea on my right. I didn’t even notice she was catching up to me a second ago.

The sunlight shifted around her blonde hair every step; lighting the side of her face, and casting shadows over her brown jacket, the fluffy white underside bouncing soft light onto the underside of her face.

She’s been attacked at least twice that I recall and couldn’t defend herself. I opened my mouth, taking a breath to speak before Rick’s voice behind us pulled both our attentions.

“Andrea, Eve.”

Both of us turned, pausing our steps to let Rick and Hershel catch up.

“When I’m out with Daryl, help Hershel keep an eye on things around here.” Rick glanced at Andrea.

I nodded, catching exactly what he means by that. He’s nervous about leaving Shane to reign while they’re out. There are only so many people here who can deal with Shane, and two of the small number are gonna be gone for the better part of a day.

I’ll be the only person here who can deal with Shane. Not for lack of capability, but because I don’t look to him for direction like the others. Neither does Daryl, but we both respect Rick. Which is why he’s going with Rick and I’m not.

“Me?” Andrea continued her pace beside Rick, while I matched their pace next to Hershel.

“Shane’s got a way of letting things get out of hand,” Rick paused. “especially when he’s all torqued up.”

“I think we’re all a little bit  _ torqued _ up at this point.” If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was dissing him just then.

“If you’re staying here permanently,” Hershel interjected. “he’s got to understand that it’s what Rick & I say, not whatever he wants.”

“You’ve become close.” Care to share what you mean by that, Rick?

Andrea stopped, cocking her hip and staring at him in a more or less justified pinched scowl. “We talk.”

“Then you know he’s not a bad guy,” Are we still talkin’ about the same Shane? “he’s just his own worst enemy.”

Andrea looked between them, incredulously. “You want me to babysit Shane?”

“I need to make sure every time I leave the farm, all Hell doesn’t break loose.” Rick stepped closer to her.

Wow a near simultaneous bullshit cut. We really are getting our shit together.

“Then maybe you should stop leaving.” Andrea fired back. Ooof, ouch. Hitting where it hurts, aren’t ya?

Seriously though, you’ve  _ gotta  _ know that’s not always gonna be possible, right?

If we can’t function in the absence of a single person, then we’re doomed from the start.

Andrea started away, leaving the three of us standing here.

“Will you keep an eye on things?” Rick called after her.

“Of course” She makes it sound like he should’ve known she would, despite arguing against him just now.

Rick glanced at us two, and I gave my best ‘no idea’ face, shrugging and shaking my head. I honest to god never understand what’s going through that woman’s head.

I started off again, the other two following me in silence but for once since we’ve been on this property, it’s not tense.

This is no longer a circus; no more elephants in the room.

I’m glad Rick reconsidered killing the boy.

We talked about it a little last night, just the four of us on the RV. I know my wanting to spare the kid is… a bit irrational.

It was out of character, which I suspect is why they brought it up last night in the first place, but it seems my reason was misunderstood.

Yes, I do see certain similarities between his situation and one I’ve been in myself, but that’s not why I want him to live. It’s more risky to keep him alive.

I kinda… want to remind the group why we don’t kill people just for the heck of it. It’s kind of a dick move but I was using the kid to fight Shane’s way of thinking.

That killing everyone we come across is the way to go. That’s a good way to make enemies in a world where we can’t afford to get on people’s bad sides.

Walkers are one thing, but people seek revenge. And there’s no way to know if someone’s out for you now until they’ve already found you.

If I hadn’t allowed my emotions to get involved, maybe that would’ve gotten across a lot better, and maybe we could have avoided the landfill we dug up in reaching this decision.

Maybe Dale wouldn’t a been in that field.

I walked over to Daryl, cleaning his crossbow by his bike near the porch and held my fist up to Carl leaning over the railing just above us.

Carl fist bumped me, but with a worrisome lack of enthusiasm before he went inside.

“Daryl, Eve,” Rick motioned us over as he moved away from the porch. We off to the side with him, sharing a look between us. “Think you can do something about the rafters in the shed?”

“Why?” Daryl voiced my confusion.

“Carl got in through ‘em a while ago.”  _ He what!? _

“If he can get in,” Rick didn’t even finish the sentence before Daryl & I both nodded.

Daryl pat his arm in a way of saying ‘we’ll take care of it’ already heading off, and I followed without prompt.

“Thank you.” Rick gave a grateful nod, and I waved my hand in acknowledgment.

What was Carl doing, going in there? Was Randall in there when he did? Why didn’t I hear about this?

“You grab the tools, I got the wood.”

I nodded and split off from Daryl to jog over to the truck back in front of the porch, and grab that toolbox we were using this morning.

It should already have nails in it but I’ll double check for the sake of not having to make a return trip.

Looks like the others have already started clearing it. Should Lori be doing that though? Aren’t you supposed to like, chill while you’re pregnant?

“Whoa. Don’t— don’t strain yourself.” T-Dog came outta the house fast, taking a heavy blue bin from Lori at the side of the truck.

“Thank you.” Lori softly pat him on the shoulder, with a grateful smile.

“Rick and Carl and I are taking the corner of the living room.”

I smiled at Lori as she looked back over. I swear I wasn’t trying to scare her but she still jumped when she saw me.

My face squished into a sheepish grimace, kinda glancing at her tummy as I stopped around the back of the bed.

She waved me off. “You’re fine, I’m just a bit… jumpy, after last night.”

I glanced at my feet, nodding before refocusing on my task.

We didn’t take the toolbox out of here as far as I know, so unless someone moved it, it’s gotta be somewhere under all this.

“You can put that in my room.” Hershel opened the screen door for T-Dog.

“You’ll be more comfortable there.” He came down the porch steps to the truck.

“We can’t do that.” Lori shook her head.

“A pregnant woman and child sleeping on the floor while I’ve got a bed to myself?” I kinda thought they would take that spare room but I guess that’s kinda turned into a… hospital room of sorts.

Unless that’s not a spare room and everyone getting hurt just kinda took over it. Were we kicking someone out of their room all this time?

“This is still your house.” Lori argued weakly, but she sounds exhausted. She needs to sit down for awhile.

We can’t sleep on the floor forever though. It’ll get freezing over the winter.

Speaking of which, we need more blankets too, and a bunch of other stuff. Maybe we should look for some clean mattresses to bring in. I gotta make a list to give to Rick so he can organize a run. He mentioned no one should be leaving the property without notice anymore. And I gotta say, I agree. It got us into a lot of trouble before.

“It’s  _ our  _ home.”

I froze. My hand stopping short of the box I was just about to grab.

_ Home... _

_ ‘Welcome to your new home, Evelyn. These are your sisters.’ _

“I’ll take the couch downstairs.” Hershel smiled at her. “On nights when I came home reeking of bourbon, my wife would lock the bedroom door.”

T-Dog came back out and came around the truck, grabbing another box.

“Ey,”

I snapped my eyes over to T-Dog, backpedalling from him.

“You ok?” his eyebrows twitched down, looking at me.

My lips parted but all I did was nod and look back towards the piles of stuff, swallowing.

I can feel his eyes on me as I shifted another box, still not finding what I’m after.

“Sad to say that couch and I became old friends.” Hershel finished his story as T-Dog moved around him.

“If you two can’t decide, I’ll take it.” T hoisted another box onto the one he already had.

Lori smiled, and I stood there uncomfortably, trying (and failing) not to chew my lips.

“...Ya mind grabbing the door for me?” T looked at me. Thank Merlin, he isn’t gonna press.

I nodded and moved around the other two.

“Thank you.” Lori pat Hershel’s arm and I moved to lunge up the steps almost the second T-Dog started walking, and grabbed the door for him.

“The couch is mine.” Hershel called after us, even though T’s barely halfway up the steps, ten feet from him.

“It’s gonna get real cozy  _ real _ fast in here.” T muttered and I snorted, nodding. A truer statement has never been spoken.

I pointed away from the house as I pat his shoulder and he nodded. “Later. Oh hey— before ya go.”

I stopped, one foot on a higher step than the other, and looked back over my shoulder. “Rick told me to tell ya, you got first watch tonight.”

I gave a brief nod with a thumbs up before going back to the truck and finding that kit in a hurry, before hauling this heavyass toolbox out to the shed.

I don’t know why just the mention of that word makes me so… restless. Makes my legs burn to run, but it just… I don’t have the best associations with ‘home’.

It makes me anxious. Like I gotta stay alert.

I hope to Merlin my ‘spot’ inside the house is by a wall. Close to, or in view of the door, would be ideal.

I looked around when I got to the shed, but Daryl isn’t here yet. And for some reason that made it a little harder to breathe. The toolbox began to rattle a little bit and I looked down, noticing my hands starting to shake.

Oh no. No no no no no— I dropped the toolbox, looking around, to maybe see if he was just around the corner but he’s not here.

I grabbed my hand, feet carrying me into the openness of the field, and I spun around, looking for anything that could be near me.

Breathe, Eve. Breathe.

I forced a shaking breath in through my nose, letting it out of my mouth.

Again.

In… out.

Check. Nothing around me. Again. In… out.

My nose burned a little from the dry air, my tongue darted over my dry lips. My chest constricted, strangling my windpipe. The wind chilled the already cold sweat breaking out on my neck and forehead.

Check. Nothing’s ther— Daryl.

My eyes fixed on the side of the house where the blue eyed man was stacking up some boards, before bracing them over his shoulder and heading this way.

The tension in my shoulders dropped a little but only to migrate my legs, moving forward without my permission.

Walking didn’t cut it, my heart hammered against my already painful chest and I was running before even realizing it.

Daryl dropped the wood as I got closer, looking between me and the shed. “What happened?”

I stopped in front of him, looking around again. I can’t stop myself. “No—nothing”

Daryl looked me over and growled, “Bullshit”

* * *

**Daryl’s POV**

“Ur havin’ an attack, aren’t ya?” I watched her mouth open but nothing came out except shaking panicked breaths and her eyes darted wildly.

Crap, what did Hershel do— what did he say to do when this happens?

_ ‘Don’t touch ‘er unless she says so. Help her focus on ‘er breathin’.’ _

“ _ Daryl, _ ” Eve grabbed at her chest, her eyes —like her skin— turning a stinging angry red with unshed tears.

“Ey, look at me.” I tried to say it as calm as I could, tryna copy how Hershel was before when he helped ‘er. Chaotic amber eyes fixed on mine as I put my hand up, but not touching her.

“Breathe. Come on, you know how to do this.”

Eve forced a tight breath through ‘er nose, almost sounding like she’s sniffling as it caught in her throat. She coughed, but did it again even though she was looking around again.

“Yer gon’ be fine,” I tried to bring her attention back and it worked, but her fingers wrapped around my hovering wrist, her own landing in my palm.

“Breathe.” Her eyes fixed on my chest, and her breaths started to slow down, become more spread out. Just like last time we did this; Trying to match her breathing to mine.

Her hand has got a death grip on my wrist, but she’s still looking around.

What the Hell happened? She just went to get a toolbox and was s’posed to head to the shed. Then she comes tearin’ towards me outta nowhere, havin’ a goddamn panic attack.


	88. Chapter 88

It took almost ten minutes for ‘er to calm down, and just like last time, her hands are still shakin’ even though she seems ok now.

At least ‘er eyes aren’t flickerin’ like a light switch no more. She doesn’t sound like she’s choking neither.

She finally let go of my hand — pretty sure that’s gonna bruise — and pushed her hair outta her face.

I hesitated but if this could happen again, I need to know. “What happened?”

“Nothin’ just… ” Eve motioned to her head, winding her finger in a crazy motion. “me, stuff.”

I stared, waiting and watched her shift. I can almost countdown to when she’ll crack and tell me, now.

As predicted, ten seconds later she sighed biting her lip. “I... Lori & Hershel were talking and it —wasn’t their fault— but they said something. A word… that doesn’t exactly bring a warm fuzzy feeling.”

Warm fuzzy feeling?

I wracked my brain cannot — for the life of me — think of a word that has that. All I can focus on is the fact that she just had a panic attack cause of a  _ word.  _ Can that really happen just cause of a word — apparently cause it just did.

“What...” I trailed off, rethinking mid-sentence about askin’ what word it was. “Nevermind, it don’t matter. You good?”

She hesitated but nodding, getting firmer towards the end. Her eyes caught over my wrist and a grimace pulled across ‘er face. “Sorry”

I glanced at it, seeing the red hand shaped bruise already forming around 5 small crescent shaped marks. I waved her off, “Ya don’t gotta be, it’s alright. Come on,” I jerked my head, picking up the planks again.

Eve stacked a couple in her arms and followed.

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

I set the boards down and walked around the shed looking for the ladder that should be over here somewhere, I’ve seen it before. It’ll get real annoying if we have to boost each other up and down.

How did Carl even get up there? Monkey child. Maybe he doesn’t need me to teach him how to climb trees afterall. Heck, he could probably teach me a thing or two.

I found it on the backside and picked up the wooden ladder, is this thing safe? It doesn't look rotten or rickety or anything.

I stood it up and put my foot on the bottom step, stomping hard. Not even a shift. I think it’s ok. We’ll just be cautious. Falling off a ladder nowadays — even from just a few feet — could be a death sentence, if you get unlucky.

Given our streak as of late, I’m not sure we’ve got a whole lot of that left.

* * *

I pushed the wood plank as high up as I can reach, Daryl crouching on the edge of the slight overhang to take it before nailing it over the others.

I looked around the property at all the trees started to turn yellow, a few dots of orange here and there.

Today is like the definition of fall. I don’t know if it’s October yet, but that tingly sense I always get around Halloween is starting to creep up.

It’s amazing how conditioned your body will get to something when you buy shit tons of sweets on a particular day every year and then proceed to eat them until you’re sick.

I have a frickin’ biological countdown to ‘chow day’ now.

“Alright” Daryl sighed, shaking the wood one more time before dusting his hands off. “That should do it.”

He passed the hammer & nails to me, and I put them back in the box while he climbed down and took down the ladder.

With that done we headed back up to the house to help out with anything else that’s gotta be done. I like battening down the hatches. Menial but important tasks make for good distractions right now.

* * *

“Take him out to Senoia — an hour there, hour back. Give or take.” Rick pointed on the map and Daryl leaned over it next to him.

I sat on the porch just behind them where they stood leaning over the railing, softly strumming Glenn’s guitar while they discuss their plan to cut Randall loose. I don’t technically need to be here for this but just in case something goes wrong — which with our track record, it will — and we need to go find them, I’ll know what their plan was and I’m confident enough in my ability to understand how both of these men think that if they do get in trouble or divert from their plan at any point along the way, I can probably figure out where and how should I need to.

“We may lose the light, but we’ll be halfway home by then.” Rick glanced at the sky.

“This little pain in the ass will be a distant memory.” Daryl pushed off the rail, walking around for a second. I wanna say pacing but he does it too often for that to be the case. It’s more like alleviating restlessness.

“Good riddance.” he sat on the rail where he was previously leaning, glancing at my strumming. I’m not really playing anything, I don’t want to distract them — or myself. It’s just a few chords that sound good together.

“Carol’s puttin’ together some provisions for ‘im. Enough to last a few days.” Rick looked out across the farm. This place is so much bigger than it feels, I forget that sometimes but from right here, you can really see it. Acres of land in a complete radius around the house before it meets the forest. Which I’m not sure if any of it is apart of the Greene’s land but I’ve always assumed their land ends at the ‘trespass it’s your ass’ signs on the far fences which we (I) keep hopping.

“Eve,” Rick turned and I paused my playing to give my full attention, resting my arms over the guitar.

“While we do this, I want you to go check the creek. I wanna know how dry it is and if there are any walkers that need to be taken care of but be cautious. Quick and quiet, no fuss. If there are walkers that need taking care of, don’t do it alone. Come back and take T, Glenn, or Andrea out there with you.” Yes chef.

An engine drew all three of our attention to the dirt track leading up to the house where Shane in the pastel metallic green sedan is driving back from building a lookout post in the windmill, per Rick’s instructions.

“I’m leavin’ you, and Shane in charge. If anything happens,” Rick glanced at Shane and I nodded as soon as he looked back, before he could continue.

Keep Shane in check, is what I’m hearing.

Rick returned the gesture before looking back out at the fields and watching the car approaching on the dirt path.

I should check the creek  _ before  _ they leave in a few minutes. Hershel can probably handle things for a little while just after they take off while I check the creek, but I don’t wanna leave Shane in charge for too long. The longer Rick’s gone, the more he’ll feel comfortable taking control and acting up, and the more likely it is the group will listen to him over someone else but not if I’m present.

I brought this group together, I’ve saved the lives of everyone here more times than Shane or Rick combined. They can argue about who’s in charge all they want, when it comes down to it in a life or death — or any threatening — situation no one will second guess  _ me,  _ or wonder if it’s really the best course of action or if someone “in charge” is gonna disagree and berate them for it later.

“That thing you did last night,” Rick looked at Daryl, tapping the railing with the tip of the map.

“Ain’t no reason you should have to do all the heavy liftin’.” Daryl squinted at him in the light, even though the porch is shaded, from his place sat on the porch railing.

Shane pulled up a distance from the house, the green car coming to a stop a lot faster than necessary.

“So you good with all this?” Rick waved the map, not taking his eyes off his partner who is just out of earshot.

“I don’t see you and I tradin’ haymakers on the side a the road. Nobody’d win that fight.” That’s probably true.

Daryl took the map, going to look over it again but he glanced at me when I stiffened because Shane got out and started walking this way.

Daryl glanced over his shoulder and dropped the map in front of Rick again. “I’mma take a piss”

I jabbed my thumb over my shoulder, raising the guitar and both of us got lost as fast as we could.

Both of us slipped inside and I returned the guitar to Glenn, but just looking around these rooms, packed with the whole group and so many people moving about… I swallowed.

I really hope this doesn’t feel as claustrophobic as it’s looking because if so, it’s gonna be a rough winter.

I checked my gear and made my way out the back door of the house.

Daryl and T-Dog glanced up from the short steps, and I’d be lying if I said I’m not a little surprised. It’s kinda rare to see these two alone together, or maybe that’s just because I’m usually accompanying Daryl in the first place.

“You leavin’?” Daryl glanced at my gear as I adjusted the strap on my thigh sheath; It's been getting a little tighter every few weeks since this started and I know it’s not because I’ve been eating well. Running builds an awful lot of muscle definition in the area right where this strap is. It’d be awesome if someday I could crush a watermelon between my thighs.

“Where?” T looked between us, confused.

“She’s goin’ to check the creek.” Daryl answered and after a second of confusion T-Dog nodded, getting why this is kinda important.

It’s probably a good thing these two are standing back here. I would’ve forgotten to let T — or anyone else aside from maybe Daryl — know I’m leaving like we’re supposed to from now on.

I slipped past them and started off but not a second later Daryl called, “Don’t fall in a hole!”

I turned, tempted to flip him the bird but ugh…mmm I can’t because it happened. He could stop rubbing it in though.

I settled on a two fingered salute before actually getting gone to go finish up this task, asap.

If I’m fast, I can probably get it done inside of 10-20 minutes. 30 at most, if there are things to take care of — but for the love of gingersnap cookies,  _ I am watching my goram step _ .


	89. Chapter 89

Well, my own boots are kind of sticking to the ground and every leaf on it, so that’s a good sign.

I scanned the trees with every quiet step over wet leaves just starting to crisp up enough that it’s making it difficult to move as quietly as I’m used to.

I readjusted my grip on my knives, licking my dry lips.

Even though the sun is out and shining the cold is biting at my skin through my jacket. Leather helps with fending off teeth — and you know, looking cool — but not so much with cold weather. If it were windy maybe but not an all around temperature free fall.

Autumn is deceptive. Cause things don’t look like they should be this cold while the sun is out but then you step outside and it’s like ‘ _ I’m sorry, did you want that sunshine to be warm¿ Tough. _ ’

I shivered, tucking my elbows a little closer to my sides. I need to get more layers asap, cause this is only gonna get worse. For all we know it could start snowing any day now. By next week we could be trudging through knee deep snow, wondering if there’s a walker just lying under the fresh powder waiting for something to step on it like a landmine.

I’ll bet we start seeing frost in the mornings as early as tomorrow. I thought I saw a little bit this morning but I got up kinda late so I don’t know.

As soon as Rick & Daryl get back today, we need to talk about those winter-stock up runs and decide when to go; preferably sooner rather than later given the drastic turns in weather.

There’s a lot a things we need that we don’t have, or at least don’t have enough of. Like blankets, properly storing food so we don’t starve in case there’s a bad storm, snow gear, gloves, ground salt would be amazing — oh and  _ snow tires _ even more so. Even just chains we can hook around the car wheels to give more traction would be better than what we’ve got right now.

The woods are as quiet as ever though, thankfully — maybe even more so than usual.

The only sounds I’ve noticed are the occasional wind rustled leaves, birds overhead and sometimes in the wilting bushes, and strangely cicadas still. I didn’t think they would still be around this late in the season but then again, I don’t know that much about bugs.

It’s the absent sounds that are more concerning for me at the moment. I can’t hear any water or even skittering from possible furry critters. The ground floor of the forest is oddly quiet and at first it set me on edge but now I’m starting to think it’s just wildlife shifting between seasons. Preparing for the harsher climate.

That’s how I definitely know winter is just around the corner. First to know are the animals. Their instinct for it is much better than our own, so using them is a good benchmark to go by when we don’t have anything more accurate at our disposal.

It wasn’t long before I came up on the riverbed. I almost didn’t recognize it if it wasn’t for my boot getting stuck.

Oh this isn’t good.

My eyes trailed up and down in both directions, following a barely discernible muddy path. It’s completely dry already. There are no walkers here, but seeing this now, I’m not so sure that’s a good sign.

I pulled my foot out of the mud, careful not to lose my shoe.

I’m not the best tracker but I know what to look for in this case. None of these foot holes look like they’ve been disturbed in awhile. They’re all dry and crusty except for the one I just made which looks much softer. It’s pretty easy to tell when you put them side by side like this.

I was actually starting to think I walked past it before I stepped in it.

Looking around one more time, I turned to head back but stopped, thinking. If this spot is dried up but still wet enough to stick, maybe it isn’t all dry.

I started down the creek a little ways, looking for any signs of moisture still in the bed. The woods are eery when they’re this quiet. It’s starting to creep me out. Big time.

Maybe I should hurry this up.

* * *

20 or so odd minutes ticked by and nothing’s caught my attention aside from a trash panda  _ demon  _ that scared the shit outta me but I most certainly did not almost stab it, or more or less run away, or run faster when it chased me, and I was most definitely not grateful no one was out here to see a grown ass woman who can take down handfuls of walkers at a time run away from something barely the size of a small dog.

Of course nothing like that happened.

I checked behind me again to make sure it was gon— for walkers. Yeah. Walkers are dangerous, you know. They sneak up on you. Which is exactly why I’m checking the ground too because — hey not all walkers have legs or can walk.

It’s important not to overlook these things.

I chewed my lips, checking behind me again and up into trees a little just to be sure cause you never know.

I like the woods in summer more. When there’s more green and less… haunted tree limbs, risk of stepping through a spider’s web, and skittery dead leaves that sound like something running after you instead of just the wind.

I huffed a sigh, stopping as I checked my surroundings again. I better get back. I’ve already been out too long and I think it’s safe to say the entire creek is dried up.

Thank goodness we weren’t relying on it for water, if we were, we’d be in deep trouble.

How many wells did the Greene’s say they’ve got on their land? 5? And they use maybe 2-3 of them — not just for the house but for the cattle as well.

Those could be a problem soon, or they could be a salvation. If we run out of food during the winter but those cattle are still alive, we might not starve to death. But if they attract more walkers like they’ve already been doing…

I watched my step as I started away from the creek, watching for holes, walkers, furry  _ creatures _ , and anything else that might be lurking out here.

It’s funny how easy it is to forget that nature is a harsh place when you live with so much technology. How many generations has it been since things like electricity, running clean water, even actual bathrooms weren’t just given things the majority of the population had access to?

I stopped suddenly, hearing something that is most definitely not natural. It sounds like… like  _ talking. _

Wait a second.

My eyes widened as my feet carried me towards a massive rock blocking my view to the source of the familiar noise and the moment I stepped around it, the atmosphere stiffened like pipes freezing and my fists clenched as I stopped in my tracks.

* * *

**3rd Person POV**

“You’re gonna like it with us.” Randall hobbled over the uneven ground, his tied wrists swinging as he did so. “Gets a little crazy sometimes but it’s a tough bunch of guys.”

“You’ll fit in good.” he rambled on, not watching where he was going other than the ground directly in front of him, glancing back at the man behind him on occasion as he lead him through the woods.

It was a risk trusting the man after he dragged him out here. Randall thought he was gonna try to kill him again but he never would’ve guessed the man to want to join his group; especially after everything that’s gone down between his group and Randall’s.

As soon as they get back to Randall’s people, set up just off the highway, about five miles from here, he’ll finally be home free. No more wonderin’ if the person who’s stepped into that shed is gonna hurt him, or just not care. The only person who was any sort of nice to him since he’s been ‘ere is that one girl who helped save his life and brought him food and stuff.

She ain’t much of a talker though, he noticed that. Not even with ‘er own people from what he could tell. But she stopped that dude from punching his lights out a few days ago. That’s more than the blonde chick who just shouted “Back off” at this dude behind him when he tried to shoot him the other day for talkin’ to the kid who got in through the roof somehow.

“Less talkin’ more walkin’.” Shane walked backwards, checking to make sure no one had seen him and they weren’t being followed. He isn’t too worried about having been seen getting off the farm. The only person he couldn’t account for before he left though is the most dangerous.

That’s the last thing he needs right now. Someone finding him with the prisoner, especially someone like Daryl, Rick, or god forbid Evelyn.

Before, he thought she would’ve been ok with killing the kid. Might’ve even been with him on it but ever since Sophia ran off — she… something happened to her. It’s like all of a sudden she went soft and started bein’ all ‘every life is important’ like Dale or some shit.

She can’t possibly want this asshole to actually join them. She’s gotta know that’s just a stupid idea. He and his buddies tried to kill her, Glenn, Hershel, and Rick. And she wanted to save his life? Man — tch, somethin’s definitely wrong with her these days.

“Look, I run my mouth when I get nervous.” Randall continued, ignoring Shane’s direction. “I can’t help it,”

Shane turned back, wanting to pop his neck off his shoulders right here and decided in the moment that this is far enough.

As soon as he reached up, Randall started and froze like a deer in headlights.

A glint over the boy’s shoulder immediately caught Shane’s attention and he locked eyes with the  _ last _ thing he wanted to see.

An entire herd of walkers like the one from the highway would’ve been better over the steady lethal amber fixed on him.

Cold sunlight cast dangerous gleams off acute sharp-edged knives grasped in two tight capable fists.

_ “You best have a damn good explanation for this,  _ ** _Officer_ ** _ .” _


	90. Chapter 90

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Shane went for his gun and Eve’s arm snapped like a whip sending the knife in her grasp hurtling straight at his head.

Randall yelped, falling to the side as the knife whizzed past him. Shane barely managed to duck to the side the blade slicing across his shoulder tearing a yelp from grit teeth instead of planting itself through his forehead.

His gun tumbled from his grasp into the dead leaves coating the forest floor and he went for it again but Eve threw the other clutched blade.

It sliced across the back of Shane’s hand ripping another yell from his lips before he could get to his piece but that was the least of his worries as Eve’s hand came cracking down on his shoulder, aiming for his jugular.

Out of pure reflex, Shane’s muscled arm barely got high enough in time to block the hit.

His fist barrelled towards Eve’s gut in a powerful uppercut, and she jumped out of range, barely escaping the hit by the skin of her teeth.

Eve dropped to the ground, hands bracing against the dirt as her leg came swinging for his ankles.

Shane backpedalled over a log on the uneven ground but realized too late the move he’d dodged was simply meant to distract him, Eve’s hand was wrapped around the handle of her knife.

He snatched the very log that tried to trip him and blocked the slice that came at him.

Shane cried out as Eve’s knee smashed into his side, digging in.

Shane’s arm clamped over her leg and offset her balance as he pulled her forward.

She brought her knife down on his head, aiming directly for his eye and the officer saw the glint off the razor-sharp tip glint right before it sank straight through the wood that flew out of pure reflex to protect his face.

The same tip pierced out the other side reentering his sight before he twisted the log wrenching the deadly object from her grasp.

Both objects hurdled towards the ground as Eve tried to block the fist coming at her stomach but Shane pulled up on her leg as his torso twisted packing as much power behind it as he could.

The air rushed from Eve’s lungs as hard knuckles buried into the side of her rib cage, crushing barely healed flesh with skin wrapped bone.

“You once told me killing might be necessary for survival! Yet ur defending this little prick over your own?!” Shane hit her again.

Randall scrambled away from the fight, crawling towards the bushes — trying not to draw any attention whatsoever.

The tiny branches scratched him as he slid under the scraggly bushes holding out against the fall and refusing to just die like the tree leaves.

He cradled his leg where his wounds reopened, fresh blood seeping into the dirt and his filthy torn pants.

He watched the fight from the shrubbery, the kind of fights he used to watch on the internet but in reality he’s barely able to keep up with what was going on — the only thing he knew for certain is they both look like they know what they’re doing — he wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve got training — in fact he’d be more surprised if they didn’t.

Another shot to her side and Eve’s elbow cracked against the side of Shane’s skull before the next one could land.

“ _ Aah! _ ” Shane dropped her leg, staggering as his vision blurred.

Eve nearly fell with her leg but was fast enough that she ended up only spinning until it was planted on the ground again. Her hand immediately cradled her side but with a split second sharp inhale, she swung her leg while the bigger male was disorientated.

The tip of her boot jammed into his gut, knocking him off his feet with another cry.

Eve spun as the momentum died and staggered getting her foot back on the ground again without falling.

She panted, sweat dripping down her temple now. “I kill to survive. Not murder for convenience.”

A boot collided with her stomach not a second later, Eve snapping forward with the impact and lost all ability to breathe as she felt her still unhealed ribs bend inwards.

She could almost feel the new fishers splinter the suspected cracked bones and she dropped, unable to keep her legs underneath her.

Her elbows hit the ground hard, barely stopping her from braining herself on a jagged rock but the pain springing from the impact paled to the lightning spider web of shooting pain ripping through her side.

Eve gasped trying to rush oxygen to her lungs but every slight muscle twitch sent a new spike through her abused torso and added fuel to the burn sprouting from red & purple painted flesh.

“ _ Yuaaaaa! _ ” Shane tackled the woman barely dragging herself to her knees.

Knocked to the ground, they wrestled. Being stabbed by rocks and cut by sticks, each tried to get some kind of upperhand over the other, anything that would put the other at a disadvantage.

Shane continuously tried to pin Eve, his size over the woman being his biggest advantage but getting ahold of the crafty smaller woman — even though she’s hurt — proved to be more difficult than getting out of Atlanta when the bombs were dropping.

Eve however, finally found the upper hand she was looking for and allowed her left arm to be pinned.

His eyes barely reached the corner of his vision before he saw her right arm reeled back; fingers curled tight enough to turn white around a small rock in her palm.

Eve’s knuckles smashed into his eye socket, feeling Shane’s eyeball squish against her protruded middle knuckle; eyelids trying to close around the object already crushing the mushy organic optical, as his head snapped away.

Her fist drew back, everything looked like it was happening in slow motion as she jackhammered his face with sucker punch after sucker punch.

Until she finally hit hard enough that he was flung off her with the aid of her knee on his stomach.

Scrambling to her feet, Eve’s hand searched desperately for what should be at her back but here eyes widened when her fingers touched nothing but her own skin.

Eyes whirled around before fixing on the gun in the dirt just a few feet away from Shane.  _ Her _ gun — which should be at her back, in her waistband.

Shane staggered to his feet, seething dark eyes fixed on her. The dangerous male blocking her path to literally every single weapon out here aside from a stick that would snap like a toothpick, and the small rock still in her palm.

His fist came flying at her right and she moved to avoid right before she noticed what she stood next to.

Her gaze set, ducking to the side instead and wrapped her arm around the inside of his swing.

She trapped his forearm under her armpit, ducking under it and grabbed the back of his head, using his own momentum and strength against him Eve swung/slammed the gorilla with as much force as she could straight into the tree; face first.

Eve — and even Randall — heard the snap echo. Shane’s nose squirted blood all over the bark as he cried out and Eve let go of him, letting his own weight drag him to the floor.

Her eyes flickered over the surroundings, rapid to check for more danger but froze for half a second, realizing Randall was gone.

Shane groaned and without even looking, she lunged for her gun.

The falling sensation in her gut was the only warning she got before reflexive arms extended to catch her.

The reflex did it’s job but the odd angle plus an already compromised torso had her cheek smashing into the forest floor anyway — even though the impact was greatly lessened it doesn’t hurt any less.

Shane’s iron grip around her ankle tightened to a blood-flow severing level and dragged her back towards him. His other hand searching for anything nearby before it wrapped around a heavy grey rock, almost too big to fit in his fist.

Eve’s ankles crossed over each other, trapping Shane’s hand as she flipped over, intending to twist his arm like a crocodile but she barely saw the rock coming before an alarming  _ ‘crack _ ’ echoed from her skull.


	91. Chapter 91

Randall jumped, his mouth dropped open as the woman hit the ground with a  _ ‘Thud’ _ and didn’t move.

A red river poured over her forehead and Shane heaved; knelt over the still form of a woman he actually once respected, on the same level as he respected his partner.

Eve reminded him a lot of Rick when things first started. And it appears she is…  _ was, _ too much like him.

Randall covered his mouth with his hand, part of him convinced the man standing over the woman glaring at the limp body like a gladiator, could hear him breathing even from this distance.

A growling breath rushed into his lungs as Shane looked around and for a moment, felt nothing but  _ triumph _ .

The same triumph he felt whenever he and Rick would arrest a suspect that tried to be clever or tried to run. That rush of adrenaline from emerging as the victor.

He managed to take down  _ Evelyn Rider. _ Someone he actually thought was untouchable before. Someone he  _ knew _ could have taken his life as easy as whistling, at her prime.

She put up more of a fight than Odis but that was expected. Evelyn Rider was not the type of person to go down easy. It’s a miracle he took her down as fast as he did and he has the search for Sophia to thank. So I guess one good thing came outta that disaster.

This changes everything though.

Randall? Ain’t nobody gon’ care if he’s dead but  _ Eve?  _ The most universally respected person of the entire group — Daryl won’t be the only one tryna skin him alive if any a them figure out what he just did. Hell even  _ Carl _ might wanna kill ‘im for this.

As soon as they realize she’s gone they won’t let this go.

Shane looked around and came late to the realization that little prick is long gone.

A snarl tore from his blood covered mouth, the fresh stuff still seeping from his badly broken nose as he stormed over and swiped both guns off the forest floor, small brown leaves and sticks clinging to the cool metal as he did so.

He’s gotta come up with something — something to explain all a this. A plan stormed in his mind as he stalked away in a fury. Bits and pieces of an already half formed idea trying to mash themselves together into something that’ll fit.

Randall watched, not making a sound until that man was long gone. He wanted to jump out and run as soon as he was out of sight but his wrists are still bound and as soon as he moved his leg he winced and slammed his sweaty filthy palms over his lips the moment the slightest sound of pain slipped from them.

His heart stopped, eyes blowing wide, and his entire body went rigid; frozen in place, every panicked corner of his brain telling him not to move and buzzing with  _ ‘Did he hear’  _ because if he did… he’s as good as dead.

If  _ that woman _ couldn’t win that fight what chance does Randall have against him? About as much of a chance as the risen dead crawling back into their own graves and going back to being just that; Dead.

Minutes must’ve ticked by before the shaken injured man deemed it safe enough to slowly crawl from the bushes, still looking around like an animal of prey making sure it’s safe before leaving its burrow.

His eyes flickered like poorly wired lights from thing to thing; between the still body of that lady who tried to help him, to the trees surrounding, to the direction that man stalked off, and finally to what would be his salvation.

Two beautiful crafter shimmering steel blades. One stuck in a log, the other buried in the dirt and slanted over but still upright and stuck in the earth like it’d tried it’s damndest to carve up the ground itself.

Crawling seems to have become a thing for Randall as he shimmied his way across the forest floor in something of a half limp army-crawl to the log; the closet object containing his freedom.

He finally reached it and didn’t even stop to think before wrapping his hands over it and starting to saw at the duct tape pulling sharply on his raw skin.

The tape soon split and Randall — momentarily forgetting the reason for keeping quiet — cried out in joy.

Seconds later he realized his mistake and quickly whipped his head around. Thankfully it seems nothing has heard but his eyes caught on the body mere feet from him.

He gulped as his throat constricted. He’s seen people die before but… this felt different.

He was lucky enough not to have seen his folks go, and he’s never had the luxury of hanging around to watch the gruesome deaths of anyone else but… what he witnessed — what he just hid in the bushes and  _ watched  _ happen... is a whole ‘nother level of messed up.

He’s seen his own group kill people in brutal ways before but, they never went after each other like that — at least, never gotten so far as to  _ kill  _ the other.

Although thinking about it now… there are definitely a few he can think of that would have if they weren’t interrupted by one thing or another. And who knows what’s happened since he’s been gone.

Does he even wanna know?

Randall wrenched the blade from the log, eyes moving back and forth between the body, blade, and the forest.

Being truly out here on your own is already starting to wrack his nerves. The dead body and lurking possibility of that guy comin’ back ain’t helpin’.

It’s still bleeding.

When do bodies stop bleedin’?

Randall used the tree next to him to try to stand up. Pain spiked through his leg, and his mouth dropped open, hissing trying not to make any noise but it’s hard when your whole leg feels like it’s on fire and just the thought of putting your foot on the ground much less doing it is crippling him.

That old guy patched him up good but it still hurts so bad. He didn’t lose his leg thankfully but he shouldn’ta listened when he told him to jump. He knew the rooftop was too high, if his foot hadn’t buckled underneath him when he hit the other roof, he wouldn’t have rolled and —…

Randall tried to stop panting. He can’t think ‘bout that right now. He’s gotta get outta here.

Even if that guy doesn't come back, her people are sure to come lookin’ for her and there’s no way that man won’t tell them  _ he _ killed ‘er as soon as he gets back there. And they won’t believe him over one a their own—

Randall’s thoughts flew out the window as he stared at the body. He couldn’t see it from the ground but it— is she…?

Randall looked around before carefully edging closer.

There’s no way she’s turnin’ — she wasn’t bit but she’s… breathing?

Without a thought he went closer to her and leaned over.

She is definitely breathing — she’s alive!

Randall almost laughed in pure disbelief. She’s alive! She  _ survived  _ that head clobbering!

“‘Ey.” Randall bent over, using the tree next to him to stabilize himself.

“Hey lady, wake up.” He shook her but nothing happened.

Randall looked around again, watching the sky already getting darker and already making it harder to see out here. If he’s gonna get out of here he’s gotta go — like now. But…

He looked back down at her biting dry, scabbed lips. ‘ _ If I leave ‘er here, she’ll die for sure. _ ’

Oh— why should I care? These people tried to kill me! Kept me prisoner!

_ But  _ she  _ didn’t _ .

She didn’t ever try to hurt him — Hell she stopped  _ them _ from hurtin’ him a couple times too.

She did try to help him, she gave him that medicine to help with the pain (which worked wonders for a little while), she saved his life more than once — she stopped that guy from killin' him; almost got ‘erself killed doin’ it.

He probably owes this one person his life 3-4 times over.

Ain’t nobody’s ever done that for him. Not the guys he was with, there was no reason to before all a this, and ain’t nobody’s ever looked out for ‘im like that. Except… well, his sister.

Jenny always used to look out for him even though he was such a screw up and kinda… an asshole to ‘er sometimes. She was only a year older but she was so much better. Had ‘er life put together and everything; Did what she wanted and ain’t nobody could stop ‘er.

Randall swallowed hard. It’s been awhile since he’s thought about his older sister.

He never saw her body. Some part of him is holding out that she’s out there somewhere — that there ain’t no way she died, she’s too smart for that but… I don’t know. You can only hold onto that hope with nothin’ to support it for so long.

_ ‘Snap’ _

Randall whirled around, “ _ Ahhhh—! _ ”


	92. Chapter 92

Randall threw himself backwards as the roamer nearly tackled him. His entire leg burned and zinged as he barely flailed them out of the way before the dead guy got to sink its teeth into his ankle.

Haphazardly rolling through the leaves, Randall tried to get away from it but it was determined to go after his leg and followed on the forest floor as he tried to crawl away, snapping and growling loudly as if that would somehow make Randall move slower or even go towards it; the exact opposite of what actually happens.

“Ah!” Randall shouted as it got hold of his leg and kicked his foot blindly trying anything to shake it off.

The knife in his hand was almost completely forgotten until it tinged against a bloody rock as his forearm hit the crunchy leaves for the umteenth time.

Randall’s face hit the dirt when his foot was suddenly released and he flipped over, harsh pants coming to a stop when he saw the roamer crawling for  _ her. _

“ _ No! _ ” He shot forward, his leg swinging underneath him as he tackled the back of the walker, pushing its face into the dirt right beside her arm.

He wrestled it’s head against the ground before being able to jab the knife into the top of it’s skull. It thrashed and a whiny shriek that put horror movies to shame pierced the air, hardly muffled by the dirt as it pushed back, trying to lift its head. He stabbed it again, and again, and again before it finally stopped moving, blood gushing over Randall’s hand, the blade, and the woman’s leather sleeve, spilling down over her wrist as well.

Randall scrambled off the walker, eyes flying even faster than before. All of a sudden he feels  _ very _ exposed. His movements jerky while he crawled around the body.

His hands hovered around the woman’s bleeding head, not knowing what to do but in movies and stuff they bind it up right? To stop the bleeding, yeah?

He looked around before crawling to the roamer’s side. It was difficult to flip the body and get its belt off but he managed even if it hurt his leg a bit and caused some — louder than he’d like — grunts.

Sweat beaded down his temple when he finally got it off and managed to tear some of its shirt before crawling back over to the woman.

“I’m real sorry ‘bout this.” Randall apologized before lifting her head. He grimaced, trying to be careful. He doesn’t know if she can feel it or not — most likely not — but still.

He moved some of the sticky blood-clotted dark strands off her forehead and tried to focus on two different things at once as he wrapped it around her head and kept his eyes on the woods around them.

“Maybe I should go get that ol’ man. He patched me up he could—” Randall looked up and a chill ran down his spine.

Wait… which way did they come from?

She came from that way but he walked off in another direction and—and he’s sure that dude didn’t bring him from the same way.

“Ah no. No, no no.” Randall grabbed at his hair, pulling harshly on his scalp as he looked around. “This can’t be happening.”

* * *

“Rick! Rick!” Shane came out of the trees, shouting.

“What happened!?” Lori shouted as everyone swarming the shed turned.

“He’s armed! He’s got my gun!”

“Are you okay?” Carl shouted in worry, looking at the blood pouring down Shane’s face from his nose.

“I’m fine — little bastard just snuck up on me, clocked me in the face.” he stalked towards everyone.

“Alright Hershel, T-Dog!” Rick raised his voice, swinging around. “Get everybody back in the house!”

“Glenn, Daryl, come with us.” Rick ordered, the two mentioned immediately following.

“T, I’mma need that gun.” Shane stalked towards him pointing and the man handed over his piece without fuss.

“Just let him go,” Carol started to panic. “That was the plan, wasn’t it, to just let him go?”

“The plan was to cut him loose far away from here,  _ not on our front step with a gun. _ ” Rick’s aggravated response made the woman back down but he had a point.

“Wait does anybody know where Eve is?” Andrea called, at the 4 men who were already tracking towards the woods.

“Oh shit— she’s out there checkin’ the creek.” T-Dog pointed at the woods Shane came from.

“On her own?” Glenn’s wide eyes locked with Daryl’s.

“Get everybody back in the house! Lock all the doors and stay put!” Rick called back, a new surge of urgency running through 3 of the four. Worried about their silent companion having a more  _ lethal _ encounter with Randall than Shane’s.

“Come on, he wasn’t anywhere near the creek when I last saw him.” Shane ran ahead, leading them into the woods, in the opposite direction he took care of Evelyn; where Randall actually took off.

If he’d had the sense to shoot her instead of just leaving the body, he could’ve blamed it on the boy but he didn’t.

He can’t risk them findin’ her or the kid now.

With any luck that little asshole’s long gone, and the walkers and nature will take care of Eve before long. If not, he’ll just have to go find ‘er when this is over with and take care of the body himself.

* * *

They’ve got no choice. They’re stuck here.

He racked his brain tryna figure out what to do but the only thing that came to mind that’s even remotely possible is to wait.

He can’t drag her, he tried. It hurts his leg too much to even carry himself very far, much less dragging her.

Randall isn’t a big guy. He ain’t gonna lie about that, least of all to himself. Not when he couldn’t drag a woman shorter, and probably lighter than him, more than 30 feet.

He only managed to get her to the bushes, out of sight, in case that guy comes back.

It’s getting darker fast though. It can’t have been more than a half hour since that guy left and already it’s gettin’ harder to see out here.

He doesn’t know how to start a fire or nothin’ but that didn’t stop him from tryin’.

He’s got a pile of twigs and is tryna copy what he remembers seein’ on some tv show awhile ago. Something about twirling the stick really fast so it heats up. But let’s face it, he has no idea what he’s doing and probably looks like a moron tryna light this sad pile of twigs.

What else can he do though? He can’t leave ‘er and go get help — he’s got no idea which way to even go, and that walker — what if there are more out ‘ere and by some miracle he does find his way back and convince her people not to kill him even though he’s gonna bring them into the deep dark woods supposedly to find their friend who’s unconscious.

He saw how that dude beatin' on him the other day treated her. They were tight. You'd have to be more than blind not to see that. Something tells him there’s no way he won’t notice his girlfriend goin' missin’.

Randall’s bettin’ he’ll come lookin’ for her sooner rather than later.

At least he hopes so. He’s puttin’ all his — and her — chips on it, cause if not… they’re both dead.

He ain’t the smartest guy around but he ain’t stupid enough to think he could make it out ‘ere on his own. Especially not now, with this busted up leg.

Somebody's gotta have noticed she's gone by now — him too most likely; What with the way they were all keepin' tabs on him like an internet browser, even though he was cuffed inside that shed and can’t walk faster than a roamer.

The bleedin’ finally stopped but she don’t look so good. She’s gettin’ colder and he doesn’t know if it’s cause of the blood she lost or the temperature dropping.

Randall threw the stick in frustration, watching it ricochet off a tree and spin like a helicopter blade until it hit the ground with a bounce. He’s cold too and this isn’t working. He sat her up against the tree, trying to fold her hands into her jacket but they wouldn’t stay for very long.

Finally he just sat beside her. It feels a little weird sitting this close to a stranger he barely knows but she did save his life and all. And there’s all that stuff about body heat and whatever.

If those guys don’t get here soon… they’re gonna freeze to death.

Unless the dead get them first.

* * *

“I saw him head up through the trees that way before I blacked out. I’m not sure how long.” Shane pointed, trudging with harsh steps through the grey toned woods. The last rays of the day being their only light at the moment. And the temperature’s already beginning to drop.

“He couldn’t have gotten far.” Rick moved up next to him, looking around anxiously. “He’s hobbled, exhausted.”

“And armed.” Glenn’s eyes scanned the trees hoping to god to catch a glimpse of Eve, he’d even take her scaring them half to death at this point.

“So are we.” Rick stopped, Shane following suit, and turned to look at Glenn.

“Eve’ll be fine. She can handle ‘erself better than anyone.” He tried to reassure the youngest of the four. Any other time Glenn would have smiled at the fact it sounded like he called her evil just then, but not now.

“Can you track him?” Rick whipped around to Daryl, whose eyes are glued to the forest floor.

“Nah, I don’t see nothin’” Anxious eyes searched for any sign of the slightest tracks. He’s not seeing anything. Not so much as a squirrel.

He doesn’t know which route Eve took to the creek but it’s a fair bet she steered clear of the sinkhole. She ain’t stupid. Especially not after all the shit he’s been givin’ her for it (he will never let her live that down). That doesn’t help them much, not even to ease some of the pressure in his head slowly building every second he doesn’t know where she is.

Rick’s right that she can handle herself but she has no idea Randall’s out here. If that little punk sees her before she sees him…

“Hey look, there ain’t no use in tracking him, okay? He went that way.” Shane stalked around the trees, the forest floor littered with fallen crunching leaves.

A plan began to solidify in the man’s shaved head. “We just need to pair up. Spread out, just chase him down. That’s it.”

“Kid weighs a buck - 25 soakin’ wet.” Daryl’s suspicious eyes turned over his shoulder at the ex-police officer. A dangerous feeling crawling the hunter’s spine. The same one he had the last time Eve went missing out ‘ere and he found her under layers of mud but this time it’s far more  _ chilling _ . “You tryna tell us he got the jump on you?”

“I’d say a rock pretty much evens those odds, wouldn’t you?” Shane snapped back.

“Alright, knock it off.” Rick scolded. He touched Daryl’s shoulder getting the man to look at him and did not miss the almost lethal force behind the blue. “You and Glenn start headin’ up the right flank. I have a feeling that’s where Eve might’a headed. Me and Shane’ll take the left.”

“Remember, Randall’s not the only threat out there. Keep an eye out for each other. Eve might already be headed back to the house but if any of us happen across ‘er, make sure she knows what’s goin’ on. We could really use the extra hands.” Rick knows she can handle herself and finding Randall is the priority but it’d be a lie if he said he wasn’t concerned about her too.

The four split off in their own directions in teams of two. All 3 missing the slight panic toiling in Shane’s eyes as he glanced at the ground, trying to figure out what to do if they find her.

But the darker the sky became, the deeper he and Rick got into the woods, the farther away from the others they got and the more secluded the place began to feel, the clearer his plan became.

Dark eyes set on Rick’s back, letting the deputy lead the way into the deep, sounddampenning trees.


	93. Chapter 93

Crickets chirped in the blackened forest, the darkness consuming everything except the tree Randall sat next to, and the woman he’s trying to keep alive.

He may not be above begging for his life, but he’s not a coward. He decided to do this, he ain’t gonna back out now. It’s not like he can anyway.

Even if he’d changed his mind about helping her and waiting for her people, he can’t leave now.

The temperature hasn’t dropped much more since the sun went down and the wind has stopped but while as comforting to his chills as that might be, it makes the forest deathly quiet and is damaging his calm by the minute.

Before the only thing he could hear was rustling leaves and the little sounds nature makes every day. But now, the only thing he can hear is his own blood in his ears, and sometimes her breathing.

* * *

Daryl looked for absolutely any sign something bigger than a squirrel has been through here as he walked through the forest with Glenn.

Moonlight streams through the trees, adding to the grey coating the forest but it doesn’t provide much in the way of seeing. Just prevents their eyes from totally adjusting to the harsh dark shadows it’s casting from the trees.

Fog rolled in with the fall of the sun, looking more like spooky dust than anything but has limited their field vision even further. Even if it isn’t too thick, they can barely see 50 feet in front of ‘em.

A frustrated sigh growled past Daryl’s throat, and if Glenn wasn’t standing right next to him, he easily could’ve mistaken the sound for a walker.

“This is pointless.” He should’ve grabbed Eve’s night vision goggles before they left. “Give me that light.” Daryl reached his hand out.

Glenn handed over the flashlight in his grip and Daryl looked around again, confirming that it isn’t his eyes, or the dark, there really are no tracks.

Another groan of frustration,  _ ‘To Hell with this _ ’ Daryl turned back. They don’t have time for this. They’ve gotta find Eve.

* * *

It got dark faster than Randall thought, and it’s freezing. How his breath isn’t misting in front of him, he’ll never know.

What if they’re stuck out here all night?

He thought for sure they wouldn’t leave her. But… he can’t help but start to wonder if, maybe he was wrong.

He doesn’t know why she was out here in the first place, but that other dude looked pretty surprised to see her.

Maybe she went somewhere and wasn’t supposed to be back so soon. But that means… if she wasn’t supposed to be back this soon, oh no.

_ No one’s looking. _

Randall stopped breathing. Lips parting with eyes blowing so wide they stung in the chilled air.

Can he survive an entire night out here on his own? No fire, no food, no sleeping bag, blanket, or even a spare jacket,  _ and _ looking after her — can  _ she _ make it through the night?

What if the temperature keeps dropping? What if more roamers roll through? He could barely handle one, on his own.

He can’t run, he can’t drag her, she’s still unconscious — what if…

Randall’s eyes slowly turned to her, anxiety calmed only the slightest bit by the fact she’s still breathing and has steadily been doing so this whole time.

What if she  _ turns?... _

He’ll — he’ll  _ have  _ to—

Randall, absorbed by his spiralling thoughts, didn’t see the light off his right shoulder moving over the trees. Or the two bodies approaching until a twig snapped and he ducked to hide without even thinking, the knife in his hand, clutched close to his chest in a shaking fist.

Roamers— no roamers don’t have flashlights and don’t talk (even though he can’t actually hear what’s being muttered). It’s gotta be her people!

Randall almost stood up before his blood ran cold.

But if she isn’t supposed to be back, then the only person who knows she’s out here is…

His throat closed as he swallowed. He’d thought of it before, he thought that guy might come back, but now that it’s actually happening— what does he do?

He can’t take that guy on. He’s probably got both those guns too — all Randall’s got is  _ her  _ knife and he can’t throw it like she did. Even if he somehow managed to sneak up close enough to that guy, he can’t take him down.

What does he do? What does he do!?!

In a desperate blind attempt, he shook her again, trying to wake her up. If she wakes up, maybe she’ll know what to do — she could throw this knife or some other ninja shit like she fought him earlier.

“Eve” a quiet voice called out soft but urgent.

‘ _ Wait that—that don’t sound like that guy. I coulda sworn his voice was deeper _ ’

* * *

“There’s two sets a tracks right here.”

“Are they Eve’s?” Glenn immediately asked.

“Nah,” Daryl shook his head. These two definitely belong to two separate people.

They’re too big and too deep to be Eve’s, Daryl’s familiar (possibly a little too familiar) with her tracks. He sees them so often, it’d be difficult not to. Plus her left boot sometimes leaves little cleft marks from the 9 slices on the side.

“Shane must’ve followed him a lot longer than he said.” ‘ _ And in a different direction.’ _

Glenn continued following Daryl.

A glisten against a tree caught Daryl’s attention and soon the flashlight and the hunter stalked straight up to get a closer look at the red liquid. “There’s fresh blood on this tree.”

He can’t tell if it’s human or not but it’s certainly at the right height to be someone’s head.

‘ _ Or face _ ’ that whispering voice drowning in suspicious fury helpfully supplied from his subconscious.

Glenn looked at the blood, but he saw something much different than Daryl. It almost looks like… a piece of skin.

Glenn looked around, the eerie forest raising the hairs on his neck even more so than they have been since the four of them split up.

He can’t shake the feeling they’re being watched.

“More tracks,” Daryl started forward again, eyes trained to the forest floor once again. “Looks like they’re walking in tandem.”

“Whoa, hold up.” Daryl stopped, looking around. It took him a second to realize but these aren’t just tracks. “This dust up, somethin’ went down here—” Daryl froze.

“What? What is it?” Glenn questioned, a little louder than the murmurs they’ve been exchanging up to now.

‘ _ It can’t be. _ ’ Daryl stared at the cleft boot marks in the dirt. Scattered, solid, more pressed into the dirt than usual, “ _ Eve. _ ”

“What?” Glenn looked at the ground as if he’d be able to tell. “How? — How do you know? Are you sure?” the baseball capped man fired off question after question.

Daryl didn’t answer, moving forward, desperate to figure out what the Hell happened. His heart rate sped up, a sweat breaking out on his forehead as he saw more literrings of blood and his flashlight froze on a large rock,  _ coated _ in blood.

An animal call distracted the pizza boy and accidentally walked straight into Daryl’s shoulder.

“Sorry” he spoke out of instinct even before he actually recognized the hunter hadn’t even moved. Glenn followed his gaze to where the light was shining and stopped breathing.

“ _ Eve _ ” Glenn whispered out as loud as he dared, unable to keep the worry or urgency out of his voice now as his eyes moved rapidly over the forest.

The flashlight moved to a dark mound just a few feet from the rock and a strange rush of relief flooded over tension that’s somehow still mounting even noticing the body to clearly be a large man.

Daryl moved closer without even thinking and knelt down.

Blood and bits of brain matter dangled and spread, tangling through the scraggly hair at the top of the head, and given the evidence it’s safe to say it was Eve’s knife but… this wasn’t her.

“This is gettin’ weird.” Glenn almost shuddered. He has a bad feeling — a  _ really _ bad feeling about this whole thing. Has since the second Randall got out and Shane came back with a bloody face, but it just  _ tripled _ .

Even he knows Eve never goes for the top of the head.

The bone’s too thick up there, it could chip the blades. She always goes for the softer parts of the skull; the temple, the base, the eye socket, even up through the bottom of the jaw, but never the forehead or the top. Hell she’d put it through the nose before there.

This is sloppy.

Daryl looked around, trying to put the whole scene together in his head, while Glenn desperate but blindly looked for her.

Only Glenn found something Daryl had been too distracted with the walker to notice.

A trail.

One even a city kid like him can recognize. A path of dirt dragging towards the bushes; almost looking as if somebody had raked the leaves away.

“Look,” Glenn carefully set his hand on Daryl’s shoulder bringing the hunter’s attention and more importantly the flashlight to the trail.

Daryl stood, taking fast long strides towards the bushes; probably faster than he should have. But the sight of all this blood, the dead walker that obviously wasn’t Eve’s doing, the drag marks, and the fact there are two other sets of prints in this ring of mayhem, didn’t let him think about anything else. Only the worst case scenarios running through his head because now they know she isn’t back at the house like they’d hoped. Her prints only appear  _ here _ . If she’d gone back, they’d have come across hers a long time ago.

He didn’t make it to the tree however, a bush rustled to their left and they both froze.


	94. Chapter 94

The flashlight clicked off and in a heartbeat both of them ran with light careful steps behind two trees, away from those drag marks.

Randall set the woman back down against a different tree. Unable to drag her any farther away.

He has to get farther away from that guy — and from where they fought. If that dude finds either of them they’re both dead.

He almost screamed the second he moved around the other side of the tree. It’s not every day you almost end up with a cleaved machete and a bolt to the head.

“Whoa whoa whoa— I ain’t dead!” Randall barely got the words out before Daryl slammed him up against a tree.

The hunter’s blood boiled. A vice-like grip wrapping around Randall’s throat accompanying a dark almost in-human growl.

“You got about 3 seconds to tell me where she is before I rip yer eyes out and show ya what yer own throat looks like.”

“Right there!  _ Jesus—  _ She’s right there!  _ Right there! _ ” Randall frantically pointed to the bush, coughing out his words with the increasing pressure on his throat.

Glenn all but ran around around the tree and immediately dropped to his knees. “Eve!”

“She's hurt real bad.” Randall coughed, trying to tap out on the scary dude’s wrist but the exact opposite happened.

“What did you do to her!?” Daryl pressed harder on Randall's throat.

“Eve!” Glenn shook her almost timidly but with a sense of urgency. “Eve, can you hear me?”

“What do I do? I don’t know what to do.” Glenn wracked his brain for things Eve would do, what Hershel might say or do, even what Rick or Daryl might do — despite one of the two being right next to him dealing with the escapee.

“I was keepin' her safe—!” Randall coughed clawing at Daryl’s arm as the tree bark dug further into his back. “I thought you were that guy comin’ back for ‘er! — For us!”

Daryl’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “ _ What guy? _ ”

“I don’t know — that dude who was with that other guy first time y’all was gonna let me go. The bald one—”

Randall barely got a chance to answer before Glenn frantically stage-whispered, “Daryl, she doesn't look so good. We gotta get her to Hershel.”

Daryl leaned closer to Randall. A deep growl rumbling low, “You best be tellin' the truth.  _ And you better pray she's okay. _ ”

Daryl let Randall go and the kid coughed, grasping his throat and almost fell down, while the hunter moved to Glenn.

The first thing that caught his sight was the glint on her forehead. The thick red ooze that caused a spark of iron in his mouth, traced back to a cloth tied around her head, soaked in red.

Daryl carefully peeled up the edge of it and mirrored Glenn’s grimace beside him at the large cut splitting her forehead.

Glenn looked away as he put the makeshift bandage back in place. His eyes caught on the walker on the ground, and at Randall peeking around the tree at them but not daring to move closer but rather than looking at him, Glenn’s gaze stopped on the steel clutched in his palm.

Eyebrows furrowing, he looked back and forth between Randall and the body. “Did you— were you the one who took down that walker?”

Randall glanced at it, nodding with a muttered “Yeah” but couldn’t find it in himself to be proud or cocky like he normally would.

Not because the redneck dude’s looking at him now and making him wanna run away or anything.

Eve groaned all of a sudden and Daryl froze, for a split second one terrifying thought flicked through his mind before he watched her throat bob with a swallow and unfocused amber eyes slowly opened as if they’d been glued shut.

“Oh thank god,” Glenn breathed, tense shoulders slumping with the weight of thinking his best friend was... it doesn't matter. She's awake.

Her hand reached for her head and Daryl caught her wrist. “Don't”

It took a moment to get her bearings but she looks even more confused than them.

Turning to glance up at Randall, a sharp breath stopped her in her tracks, eyes coming to sudden focus as her hands went to her side.

“What is it?” Daryl looked down. “Let me see.”

He moved her hands, passing Glenn the flashlight and she grit her teeth hissing against the cold air while he lifted her shirt.

Glenn’s hand covered his mouth, staring at the bruises that had nearly been healed now coloring over her potentially cracked ribs, once again.

If they weren’t actually cracked before, they certainly are now. They look so much worse and her face is pinched so much harder than last time.

“ _ Who. _ ”

Daryl's voice dropped almost two octaves, dangerously steady as he carefully rolled her shirt back down. His white knuckled fist shaking around his bow.

Eve looked him dead in the eyes. A serious light that doesn’t happen often, shining through the screaming of pain. “Finally made his move.”

Daryl went rigid; stiller than a photograph.

Murderous eyes turned back the way they came as if Shane would be able to feel the knife Daryl’s going to dig under his ribcage the moment he lays eyes on him.

“Can you stand?” Glenn trying to ignore the homicidal rage rolling off the man beside him.

Daryl obviously knows who she’s talking about and he wants to know too but they’ve got bigger things to worry about right now. Like getting her back to the house asap.

Eve nodded — carefully — and as soon as she started to get up, Daryl finally moved.

He passed his crossbow to Glenn and all but deadlifted her off the ground, pulling her arm across his shoulders and wrapping the other around her back; being careful of her ribs.

He couldn’t grab where you normally would when helping someone like this, so he had to settle for holding farther down, on her hip instead. Seeing as how it’s the only part of her torso that hasn’t taken a beating in the last two weeks.

Eve leaned so heavily against his side he’s practically dragging her, but it’s less because she can’t hold her own wait and more because when she stood her vision swam. Her own dizziness is giving her vertigo and her skull feels like it’s splitting open.

She can’t help hunching over. Her ribcage feels like it’s gonna cave in but even as they’d barely started moving, Eve stopped the moment she looked at the walker on the ground; Daryl coming to a halt with her.

“What?” The man followed her line of sight.

Eve reached for the light in Ace’s hand — who handed it over without question — and slowly looked over the corpse.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she double checked.  _ ‘There's no blood on him. Not even around the mouth.’ _

The only blood anywhere on this walker, is the stuff seeping out of the hole in its forehead.

Eve looked at Daryl and it took him a moment to put homicidal thoughts aside and see it too.

“He’s got no bites.” Daryl looked at Glenn, Eve turning her head slowly towards the other two boys as well, blinking a bit harshly in the dark.

Glenn was confused for a second before he followed her eyes to the body and both of them finally got what she was after. “None that you can see.”

“Maybe he got scratched?” Randall offered and tried not to shrink back or look too intimidated when all 3 looked at him.

Glenn nodded and crouched, searching the body while the others kept a lookout, Eve holding the light for him.

The arms, the legs, the stomach, the face, the neck, its back, nothing. Almost two minutes passed and he turned back up at them. “There’s nothing here. I can’t find anything.”

Eve tilted her head in confusion, bad move. Her vision swam and she swallowed hard; trying not to wince at the pull the contracting muscles created in her chest.

“Let me.” Daryl turned his attention back from the shadowed trees.

Glenn stood and transferred Eve's weight onto him so Daryl could take a look. An experienced tracker and hunter might see something he’s not but he swears, there’s nothing there.

And he’s right. There’s nothing to be found.

Daryl searched and searched for a cause of death but no matter how many times he looks it over, he can’t find one.

It’s like he just died. Maybe he ate something?

Randall watched Daryl turn the man over for the third time, and a small black case slipped out of the dead man's pocket.

Having no filter + being nervous, his mouth fired off the first thing that came to mind. “Diabetic?”

Everyone looked at him. Then the box. Then the corpse, before sharing looks between themselves.

_ ‘Diabetic — could be because of death, but that doesn't explain how he turned.’ _ The gears in Eve’s head began to turn. ‘ _ Is there any way to turn without visible marks? _ ’

‘ _ Maybe… he wasn’t scratched on the outside. Possibly in his mouth somewhere? I don’t know, that’s a bit of a stretch. _ ’ Eve grimaced with another onset of pain through her throbbing skull.

_ ‘If he ate somethin’ that might be what offed him.’ _ Daryl chewed the inside of his bottom lip. ‘ _ Food poisoning or somethin’ spoiled, Hell maybe son a bitch got desperate enough to try to eat a walker. _ ’

A twig snapped nearby, startling them all out of Sherlock Holmes mode back into the reality of where they are as four sets of eyes shot to scan their surroundings in every direction.

One by one, they returned to each other upon coming up empty. Eve doing her scan a little quicker than usual and immediately squinting upon returning her eyes to where the light in her hand shines.

Eve put her finger to her lips, looking directly at Randall whose mouth is already in shape to say something but cut himself off and clamped his jaw shut the moment he saw her.

Daryl stood, taking his crossbow and double checked to make sure it was loaded before motioning for the group to follow.

Eve pulled her knife, finally noticing Randall has the other in his hand but she can think about why he’s got that and she doesn’t, later.


	95. Chapter 95

Making their way back through a mile of dense forest in the dark, lurking with things that shouldn’t be moving — much less biting — is not exactly easy.

Daryl’s mind however is consumed with only one thing, in this environment where he’s actually comfortable; even in the dark.

He’s getting Eve to Hershel and getting his hands on  _ Shane _ .

The four of them move quietly, being cautious, but slow. Too slow.

Rick is still out there with Shane. And if he tried to kill  _ Eve _ of all people... the Sheriff's deputy very well could be next.

Daryl went back to helping Eve, so Glenn could help Randall.

Of course it isn’t because standing even 6 feet in front of the swamp-monster felt too far and pressed all the wrong buttons.

It’s so they can pick up the pace.

Eve grunted and Daryl shifted his grip to support her a little more.

When they reached the property line, Eve tapped Daryl’s shoulder and pulled back a little.

Daryl was reluctant to let her but she needed to walk on her own. At least up to the house.

A gunshot rang out, shattering the silence over the farm and all four of their heads whipped to the side.

“Do you think that’s them?” Glenn asked, trying to lean around Randall’s head to look as if he’d be able to magically see the source of alarm.

“Let’s get back to the house.” Daryl let Eve walk on her own, making sure his crossbow was ready in his hands instead but kept close to her. Closer than normal, and made sure she was in front of him.

Eve took her knife back from Randall without a word or fight. He was all too happy to hand it over to the blade wielder and the four hustled up the property back to the house.

As soon as they reached the porch, Daryl took the steps two at a time and got the door while Eve stood at the bottom, looking out into the darkness; hoping to see something with the aid of the full moon’s light but nothing moved. Not even the wind through the trees.

Daryl whistled at her from the top of the steps as Glenn & Randall made it to the top of the steps.

Eve turned around and went to take the stairs fast, like she’s used to but as soon as she lifted her foot that plan 86’d itself and she took the stairs slower than normal.

It’s easier to breathe now but everything aches. Everything.

There’s not one part of her body that does not hate her for everything she’s worth. Entirely because of all the things she’s put it through over the last two weeks.

After this, no more. She has to let herself heal  _ completely. _ But not until after this is over. Until after the threat’s been eliminated.

“Rick and Shane ain’t back? We heard a shot.” Daryl asked the moment they filed into the house. Him then Glenn

“Maybe they found Randall.” Lori offered.

“We found ‘im. He was with Eve.” Daryl answered.

Just as she opened her mouth to question why on Earth Randall and Eve would be together, the aforementioned two came in behind Glenn and Daryl.

Randall is a little less inclined to be here; Given his history and standing with most of these people.

While safe to the other 3, it might as well be a lion’s den for him. Which is why he’s staying behind Eve, as far back as he can get away with.

“Oh my god— what happened? What is going on? What’s he doing here!?” The whole room fired off in rapid succession not giving anyone time to answer.

Andrea took aim at him and Eve stepped in front of the kid, pushing him behind her; her palm extending towards Andrea in a signal to calm down.

Nobody's shooting the kid who saved her life. Not today. Nor ever, if Evelyn frickin' Rider has anything to say about it.

“Whoa ey— ey — ey. T’s alright. He’s good.” Glenn moved in front of him too, next to Eve.

The last thing they need is someone getting shot. Especially if Rick’s out there with Shane still and that shot wasn’t someone being killed.

“What are you talking about he broke out and tried to—”

“I didn’t — I swear” Randall defended himself, almost hiding behind the woman in front of him.

“ _ Shane lied _ .” Daryl growled.

“He’s telling the truth.” Glenn backed them up.

“What? What do you mean he  _ lied _ ?” Lori stood up.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Hershel sighed, unfortunately.

“You best let me take a look at that.” the vet motioned at Eve.

She didn’t think stepping away from Randall at the moment was a good idea, plus his leg needs looking at again. So she motioned for the kid to follow as she moved to the couch.

Daryl at her side, helping her sit down before she even blinked and Hershel moved her hair, taking a look at the gash on her forehead.

“Will someone please explain what is going on?” Carol tried not to pace but was failing miserably. The entire situation made her so anxious she could only sit still if someone paralyzed her.

“You’ll need a couple stitches but it looks worse than it is. You may have a concussion so if you feel nauseous, or dizzy, let me know right away.”

“She shouldn’t go to sleep then, right?” Andrea asked.

“That’s a little bit of a misnomer.” Hershel glanced over his shoulder at the blonde. “Depending on the severity of the concussion, you need to be watched for new symptoms but since we don’t know what or how much damage there is, it is best if you don’t sleep. For now at least.”

“I am gonna need you to talk for me, to see if your speech is slurred.” Hershel motioned at her, waiting patiently.

Eve opened her mouth but they were not expecting the dangerous, perfectly stable words to leave her lips.

“I won’t rest until I finish what  _ he  _ started.”

Eve’s jaw clenched, a dark aura seeping into the air like black smoke, through fiery eyes; glaring through the wall at something that isn’t there.

“He?” T-Dog and Carol questioned simultaneously, glancing at each other after the word left their mouths.

Patricia and Maggie were already bringing over the medical supplies and Hershel started stitching her up right away. Half the room cautiously eyeing the dangerous fist clenched white around the handle of a  _ very _ sharp blade.

Daryl's anger flared again, watching the old man stick a needle through her skin and at most causing a slow blink from the woman, making her jaw clench a little tighter.

“Shane did this.” He growled before he could stop himself. Not that he would have.

The room went silent as if a gunshot had gone off, all eyes turning to Daryl.

The atmosphere almost carbon copy of the morning Glenn told ‘em the barn was full of walkers.

“That guy tried to kill us both.” Attention turned to Randall the moment he opened his mouth, but most looked to Eve for confirmation and her expression said it all.

This side of her was almost forgotten in all the weeks since they saw it last. Not having seen it since before they left the quarry — even before Rick came back from the dead.

A needle spearing through her forehead, blood seeping from the open wound down into her eyebrow. And a murderous aura darkening her features, plunging the atmosphere into something hard to breathe; teaming with anxious energy and near panicked confusion. All in fear of what Rider will do the moment she decides to do it.

She isn’t even listening — which is all kinds of alarming, because  _ that’s what she does. _ She listens, and acts, but at this moment there’s only one thing going through her mind. One thing in her orbit.

_ Kill him _ .

Before he kills someone else.

There was a time she respected Shane. But there was also a time she feared the dark.

And those times are long gone.

Lori walked up to Daryl, “Will you please get back out there and find Rick & Shane and find out what on Earth is going on?”

“You got it.” Daryl moved to head out again.

“Thank you.” As soon as the words left Lori’s lips, Eve’s cut the atmosphere like a serrated knife. 

“I'm coming with you.”

“The Hell you are.” Daryl snapped but Eve stood up anyway. “You can barely stand on yer own.”

Eve’s eyes narrowed at him, glaring her partner down as the tension in the room took drastic leaps towards choking the occupants.

Daryl stepped toward her, right in her face, glaring back at her. “Sit ur ass down, you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“Watch me.” Eve stood her ground. She is going out there and hunting that son of a bridge cave troll, one way or another.

“ _ Sit. Down. _ ” Daryl growled, getting so close his nose almost touched hers.

“ _ No _ ” Eve ground through her teeth.

“I ain’t gonna tell ya again, sit ur ass down or I’ll make ya!” Daryl pointed at the couch, the veins popping in his neck, not even trying to attempt at keeping his voice down.

“ _ Then do it. _ ” Eve daunted. “ _ Cause that is the only way you are gonna stop me. _ ”

Glenn swallowed hard, staring at the two, glancing around the rest of the room who were all equally as shell shocked.

Not just at hearing Eve talk this much but actually  _ arguing _ with the one person she spends 90% of her time with. Who seems to know how she thinks even without words; and vice versa.

Daryl’s jaw tightened, anger boiling his veins before he growled, “ _ Fine. _ ”

“Eve Daryl’s righ— wait what?” Glenn looked at the hunter like he just stole a pirate ship and declared himself captain of the squirrel seas.

_ “ _ But none a this.”

Daryl took her knife right out of her hand and put it back in it’s sheath before her mouth even opened to snap at him and he shoved her gun into her open hand; confusing everyone in the room.

Eve’s far too good at close combat not to be tempted, but she  _ can’t. _ He won’t let her. Not like this.

Guns are loud and risky, she knows that. She won’t use it unless she’s gotta, which means she’s more likely to stay back and let him, rather than risk usin’ it.

“Wait— you can’t be serious.” Andrea moved around the couch, looking between the two, who didn’t even notice the rest of the room is still here.

“You don’t get within 20 feet a him.  _ Understand. _ ” Daryl held his partner’s livid gaze, watching her jaw shift and teeth clenched again.

At least  _ some _ of the fury is settling to a slow burning flame.

He didn’t have to wait, he knows she’s accepted the terms, but he continued to stare her down until the woman settled enough to give a visual confirmation; via reluctant nod.

He’s gotta be absolutely positive she won’t try nothin’.

He knew he was gonna lose this fight from the start. He knows ‘er too well. There's no talking her out of this, and if she doesn't go with them, she'll go on ‘er own.

At least this way he can keep an eye on ‘er. He ain’t riskin’ losing her out there again.

Pushing a rough sigh through his nose, Daryl finally jerked his head for the two to follow and headed for the door. (The ninja and the pizza boy; only thing missing is reptiles and it’d be perfect for crime fighting)

By the time they're through with Shane, he's gonna wish he’d run head first into a hoard of walkers.

However their plans to find and skin the officer alive, flew out the window like ash, as soon as the few stepped out onto the porch.


	96. Chapter 96

**Eve's POV**

Following Daryl to the porch railing, I almost walked into his back before freezing.

“_ Oh my God _...” Andrea breathed on my right.

My mouth dropped open staring at the teams of walkers streaming like tired soldiers out of the far treeline.

We were out there not ten minutes ago, how the Hell did we not even hear a herd that size!?

“Patricia, kill the lights.” Hershel stage-whispered at the short blonde woman near the front door and a moment later the lights went out, leaving us in darkness but it’s no use, they’re still headed this way and even if they’re slow, it won’t take those walkers long to reach us.

“I’ll get the guns,” Andrea went back into the house. I nodded as she passed me.

“Maybe they’re just passing, like the herd on the highway. Should we just go inside?” Glenn asked from behind me and I turned to glance at him before returning my eyes to the hoards of walkers pouring out of the treeline like ants to fallen food.

“Not unless there’s a tunnel downstairs I don’t know about. Herd that size will rip the house down.” Daryl nodded at the masses.

For now they seem to be wandering aimlessly but unfortunately in the exact direction of the house. The barn is splitting them into two streams from what I can see.

“Carl’s gone.”

“What?” we all turned to the panicking dark haired woman practically running out of the house.

“He was up stairs I can’t find him anywhere.” Lori put her hands on her rapid chest.

“Maybe he’s hiding.” Glenn offered weakly. No if Carl were hiding and heard his mom, he’d come out. Plus why would he be hiding? He doesn’t even know about this — as far as we know.

“He’s supposed to be upstairs. I’m not leavin’ without my boy.” Lori refuted, voice rising in pitch as panic began to take hold in her eyes.

“We’re not.” Carol grabbed her hands, immediately. “We’re gonna — we’re gonna look again, we’re gonna find him.”

Oh god. If he’s out there...

The others aside from Lori & Carol came back to the porch with the bag of guns and heaved it next to my feet between all of us.

“Maggie,” Glenn stared at the girl digging a couple shotguns outta the bag and handed him one.

“You grow up country, you pick up a thing or two.” Maggie loaded her weapon.

You are just full of surprises, my dear.

“I got the numbers — it’s no use.” Daryl dismissed their plan.

“You can go if you want.” Hershel loaded his shotgun.

“You gon’ take ‘em all on?” Daryl asked in disbelief but a strange almost respect-laiden undertone laced his question.

“We have guns, we have cars.” Hershel loaded his shotgun.

_ Cars?! _You think cars are gonna be the advantage we need?

“Kill as many as we can. And we’ll use the cars to lead the rest of them off the farm.” Andrea lined her pockets with ammo from the bag beside my feet.

Unless you’ve got a tank, we’re gonna get battered six ways to Sunday.

We need machine guns with unlimited ammo!

Or you know, _ a helicopter. _

Grenades and holes for them to fall into and get stuck would be nice — oh hey, that’s actually not a bad idea.

If we live through this, I’ll have to remember that.

“You serious?” Daryl asked again, the same tone as before.

Wait wait, are you actually considering this?

I stared at him in disbelief. Trying to figure out what on Earth is going through his head.

He glanced at me but it was brief and answered no more questions than it spawned.

“This is my farm.” Hershel cocked his shotgun. “I’ll die here.”

Uh, _ no thanks _. I choose to live.

I’m not dyin’ for a few acres of dirt. No matter how much this place has grown on me and started to feel like home.

“As good a night as any.” Daryl tapped the wood railing before tossing his legs over and jumping down.

Are you serious!? Wha— Let’s save the dying for another day, yeah?

I didn’t make it this far to _ only _ make it this far, thank you very much.

I grabbed another two guns and some ammo out of the bag, and followed my partner — however reluctantly — swinging over the white wood just as he had.

My knees bent a little more than anticipated and I hunched over for a moment.

Ooof— _ Bad idea _ . _ Bad idea! _

Ah Hell, _ why _did I just do that!?

Especially not now when we’re all about to jump head first into a suicidal endeavour.

I took a couple deep pain-managing breaths before straightening back up just before Daryl glanced back at me. Thank goodness.

Cause if he saw that — I don’t even wanna think about being benched at a time like this. I don’t think we can afford that even if I need to be.

I checked the clips on all three of my pieces, before tossing one to Randall who came down the porch like a smart man.

He caught it more easily than I expected but then again, he was a pretty good shot with that rifle at the bar.

I figured there must’ve been a reason the kid had it. Let’s hope he’s as good a shot as I remember. Cause we’re gonna need it.

“Eve, Hershel, protect the house.” Daryl called and I didn’t argue. I know I’m in no condition to go out there, sometimes stealth killer has to play stationary. “The rest a you double up and let’s move.”

Everyone split like a professional team, knowing exactly where to go, with who, and what to do.

Randall and Jimmy took the RV. Maggie and Glenn the green Sudan. T-Dog and Andrea the blue truck. Lori and Carol, plus Beth and Patricia are running around inside the house, so Hershel and I headed to the side, where the spearhead of the walkers is gonna hit any minute now.

I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I really hope your lord is up there Hershel. Cause we’re gonna need his help on this if any of us are gonna make it through the night.


	97. Chapter 97

Round after round, gunshot after gunshot, walker after walker; bodies falling like weeds to a whacker.

I don’t think I’ve ever fired a gun so often in my life, much less in a row like this.

We’re barely keeping them away from the house even with the two of us firing almost nonstop and I even had to drift away a little bit to catch the ones coming up farther down the driveway.

The cars are zigzagging all over the place out there in the fields but it’s so hard to tell who is who, or which car is which.

I can’t see Daryl.

However it was clear as day when a glow started up and I glanced to see the barn suddenly going up in flames.

Fire licking out of every window, walkers streaming into the open front doors, literally walking into the mouth of a forge of flames.

“CARL!” Lori screamed from the porch, startling me.

I looked away for half a second and narrowly dodged a walker stumbling towards me.

I backpedalled, firing at the walkers around me, but streams of them continued to drive a wedge between me, Hershel, and the house.

Being pushed back, I spun on my heel, running from the masses headed for me, splitting between me and the house.

I looked around, panting hard, watching Lori and the others run for the blue truck that just pulled up at the house, Andrea I assume, jumping out to help them get to the vehicle.

It’s over. This was a losing battle from the start.

I dodged another grab from a walker and ran again, my lone dark form blending into the teams of bodies.

I gotta find Daryl.

Gaze rapidly flicking between my surroundings and searching for my nearest ally but all I see are walkers. Striding everywhere I look, so thick the ones  _ not  _ in my immediate surroundings can’t even tell I’m here.

The stench fog rotting corpses is so strong it activated my gag reflex and I almost puked as I ran like a rabbit being closed in on.

I dodged another walker and ran along the grassy path I’ve almost carved out the last few from runs. Boy am I glad I started doing those again but dear squirrel Jesus I feel like I could buckle any second.

My legs are fine for the most part but my chest muscles are twitching they hurt so bad.

The rapid rise and fall is pure agony but thank sweet Mary & Joseph for adrenaline and it’s pain dampening qualities because I assure you, I would not be able to keep this up if it didn’t.

I stopped for a moment, doing a quick scan before looking more carefully for the others. 

I caught headlights headed for the edge of the farm, and another set disappearing into the trees on the far side.

I can’t see anyone else, but looking over the wasteland of dead rolling over the acres of farmland, it doesn’t take a genius to see.

It’s lost.

It was lost from the start, but stubbornness is in human nature. We’ll fight tooth and nail to keep what’s ours.

It seems the only thing that can pry it from our death grips, are the cold black fingers of the dead themselves.

I slashed a walker that was getting too close for my liking before a calm panic set it.

I have to get out of here. Find the others and get to safety.

“Rick wait!”

I whipped around just in time to watch the red truck blow past the dirt driveway not 30 feet from me, but I came almost face to face with a hand and dropped out of pure reflex, narrowly avoiding the  _ big _ walker that was about to grab me.

My feet slid on the damp grass nearly making me do the splits before my boot found traction and I scrambled away, shooting it in what should have been right between the eyes but ended up blowing pureed eyeball out the back of it’s skull.

I looked back towards the house catching barely a glimpse of blonde before it disappeared through the trees with a whole hoard splitting it’s attention between me and whichever of the three blonde’s that were here not 10 minutes ago just went tearing off into the woods.

My mind whooshed with ways of getting to them, catching up, helping them, but it’s not possible. Not with all these walkers, and not with my barely being able to run as is.

As much as I want to, I can’t.

The walkers pushed me further and further down the driveway until I finally grit my teeth and turned to run. Before I get myself killed trying to help someone who’s beyond my grasp.

I hope to whatever god will listen that whoever it was, will be ok. We’ve lost too much to these woods already.

Every step dragged me down, pulled on my heart trying to make me go back for them but it does no good If I get myself killed. I’m in more trouble than they are.

I emptied my clip into the walkers between me and the driveway where the final taillights were disappearing down the road.

If that is Rick, there’s only one place he’ll go if he heads that way. The highway.

I stowed the empty gun in my waistband and pulled a knife into my now free hand not even trying to slash at walkers as I ran as fast as I can handle.

It didn’t take long to make it to the road but I’m not the first one here.

A gunshot went off almost the moment my boot touched the asphalt and screaming ripped through the air. Screaming I’ve heard before.

I ran towards the 20 something year old, desperately trying to fight off a walker while 3 others were closing in on him but as my heart thudded in my ears, every beat seemed to boost the volume of the voice in my head, screaming ‘ _ I’m not gonna make it in time _ ’


	98. Chapter 98

**3rd Person POV**

Randall screamed, ears ringing as blood splattered across his torso, and the force pushing him backwards suddenly dropping like a sack of rice onto the asphalt.

He stared at the body for half a second before his eyes traced up to the barrel of a sleek black gun from a being he’s now thoroughly convinced is his guardian angel, who looks like she traversed the 9 circles of Hell and clawed her way through purgatory, just to get here at exactly the right moment.

Covered in dirt, sweat, breathing hard, holding her side, a hazy field of the dead headed this way far off behind her, and he only watched as she shot the other 4 walkers intent on making him their dinner, like she’d only snapped her fingers.

While Randall thanked the lord for putting this woman here on earth, Eve ground her teeth into dust just glancing over her shoulder to the flood behind them.

She motioned at Randall to get up and he jumped in a heartbeat, almost tripping over the bodies mangled limbs until he was right next to her and already the two moved towards the forest.

Where they’re headed, he has no idea but as long as it ain’t here and he’s teamed up with her, he don’t care.

As the two disappeared into the forest, the sound of a motorcycle was lost on them over the hoards of dead and crunching of leaves beneath their feet.

Eve continued to hold her side end keep an eye out but they’re flying blind here. They don’t have anything to tell them which direction to go.

If only they had a compass or some— Eve stopped mid-step.

“What? Something wrong?” Randall panicked, looking around quickly.

‘ _ Son of a krabby patty. _ ’ Eve dug through her pockets, slower than she normally would have.

For some odd reason the voice inside telling her not to strain herself sounds an awful lot like Daryl but somehow she’s not really surprised. And more inclined to listen, oddly enough.

“What are you doin’?” Randall questioned and Eve shushed him. They’re not alone out here and with all these walkers nearby, they can’t afford to attract attention.

Eve finally fished the compass from her pocket. She knew this thing would come in handy. Good idea to keep it in her pocket and not toss it into her backpack.

“Oh damn that’s real smart. Which way?” Randall shifted in anticipation.

Eve gestured with the hand that held the compass.

After another few minutes of walking Randall spoke up again. “So uh, where are we goin’ exactly?”

“Highway.” Eve sighed, taking the opportunity to breath a little deeper.

Randall nodded before looking at her. Eyes wide, and mouth on the floor.

“You know I think that’s the first word you ever said to me.”

‘ _ Please don’t make me regret my decision to save you. _ ’ Eve looked at the 20 something year old and put her finger to her lips.

He’s probably only a little younger than Glenn, if not the same age but he is so much… less wise.

Randall took the hint thankfully, and shut his grubhole. But it’s too late.

They heard the shambling and moans before they saw them. Two walkers ahead are shambling this way.

Eve quickly tugged Randall and veered to the side.

More moans down the hill caught her ear and she looked at the state of both her and the kid. They aren’t gonna make it very far like this. They need to increase their odds.

Eve glanced at those two unaware walkers and sighed. This isn’t gonna be pleasant.

Eve lifted her arm from Randall’s shoulders and made sure all her weapons are locked down tight before taking out her knives.

“Wait here.” Eve whispered lowly to Randall.

“What are you gonna do?”

Eve threw him a look and he clamped his mouth shut.

Eve took a deep breath and did her best to sneak around behind the closest one, avoiding sticks and rocks where she could.

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

I’m not used to moving so slowly. It must’ve heard or smelled me coming but just as it began to turn, I stabbed it through the temple.

Something I’m accustomed to doing with ease, which is why the ripping feeling in my side caught me off guard.

My head swam and I could feel myself falling forward and almost went down with it but my front foot caught me in time and I steadied but as soon as I tried to go forward again I gasped.

My entire side locked up.

A sharp burning tingle ricocheted up my torso, like an electric current is shooting through my bones and frying every single nerve along the way.

“Look out!”

I turned my head half a second before Randall shoved a branch in front of the walkers mouth.

I tossed him my knife and he nearly dropped it but after fumbling he got it through the back of the head.

My eyebrows raised and I gave the kid a thumbs up; impressed. But my side is  _ burning  _ me alive.

“Whoa hey hey you don’t look so good.”

I waved him off. We got work to do.

Crouching is harder than it should be but I managed and started pulling the walkers jacket off.

I pointed at the other one, “Copy me.”

“Wh—”

“No questions.”

“...Ok.”

Randall did as told and copied me in making walker-gut jackets. Only the most stylish of fashion for the likes of us crippled folk, and with that leg of his and these ribs of mine, there’ll be no catwalk training necessary.

After we both put on our stylish new coats I took a look at us.

We look like some fine fresh turns over here. Time to strut our stuff all the way to the highway.

“Highway’s that way. We should make it before noon.”

“Look, I know you don’t seem to talk much and ya really don’t like it when I talk,” maybe you should think about why that is. “but why the highway?”

I sighed for what must be the 8th time now. “There’s a carjam where we lost Soph—… one of ours. Before we met the Greene’s. That’s where Rick’ll go. Where he goes, the others go. That includes me and you.”

Before he could open his mouth again I started moving. “Don’t talk. This is how we survive. Quick and quiet. Savvy?”

Randall nodded and I gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulders before motioning for him to follow.

If only we’d stopped talking sooner.

Then maybe they wouldn’t have heard us.


	99. Chapter 99

I limped through the forest, subtly glancing over my shoulder as more and more walkers began to pile behind us; following.

A couple wouldn’t have been so bad. A couple  _ dozen _ almost can’t be worse.

They haven’t noticed us yet. They’re just following along, but some of them are faster with longer strides and they’re starting to drive a wedge between me and the kid.

They’re pouring in from the front as well.

I have no idea how that will affect our ability to move away from them but that’s not our biggest issue now.

If the others are at the highway, we can’t lead a herd this size straight to them.

I need to turn it away while they’re still somewhat following our lead.

I subtly nudged the Randall and he jumped but not too noticeably thank goodness.

In the lowest voice possible with the least amount of mouth movement, I muttered, “Stay close.”

He subtly nodded and I started in a slightly different direction.

Some of the walkers began to alter course but not enough.

I need to attract them somehow without drawing attention to us.

I can’t use my gun, obviously; that’s out of the question. I can’t cut my finger with all this walker blood on me — can’t risk it getting into the open wound. I’ve already got a head injury.

I can’t run so it can’t be anything involving movement, but it can’t be too subtle. I need to turn a herd this size carefu— my fingers brushed against each other as I stepped down, snapping a twig with my boots.

Ohhh snicker-doodles, I hope this works.

I carefully brought my eyes up to subtly look around as I pressed the pads of my fingers together before a resounding snap echoed just loud enough a number of walkers turned my direction.

I pretended to turn as well, and started shuffling again, completely missing Randall’s wildly panicked look at my plan.

Instead of turning around to see if they were following, I used my ears and subtle glances at my sides, walking at an even slower pace but it’s still not enough.

Most of them are not interested enough to follow yet.

I glanced at Randall subtly, feeling the sweat collecting on my neck and the knot beginning to form in my gut as another riskier move came to mind.

If this doesn’t work, it could get us both killed.

After everything he’s been through, he doesn’t deserve that.

I shuffled closer to him, almost bumping shoulders and as quiet as I can possibly manage while still having him hear me, “Don’t speak.”

“The highway isn’t far from here. About a half mile in that direction.” I subtly pointed, using my eyes mostly to indicate the direction.

“Head that way, keep the sun over your left shoulder.”

His confusion is evident but I chose to ignore it.

“Why are you—”

“ _ No questions. _ ” I gripped his elbow, starting to steer him in that direction.

“Look for a car jam and a yellow vehicle with a white spray painted message on the windshield. It’s possible there’s even some supplies on the hood still. Go.” I let go of him but not before pushing something into his hand.

“What about you?” he muttered lowly, flinching as a big walker walked past us and barely glancing at what I’d given him. I waited until it completely passed us to answer.

“If I’m not there within an hour. Leave.”

“Wha—”

I split off from him before he can ask another question like I told him not to.

I started back towards the front-center of the herd, subtly glancing to make sure he’s doing as told.

I’m concerned about leaving him by himself but he’s smarter than he looks; provided he can keep his mouth shut.

He’ll be alright.

I forced my mind back to the task at hand and swallowed the extra moisture in my mouth, taking small deep breaths to get my blood pumping, just in case this goes  _ very  _ wrong.

* * *

**3rd Person POV**

Randall watched her disappear into the dark masses, his anxiety skyrocketing the second she was moving away from him. Like a kid being left by their parents in a grocery store.

But as soon as a whistle pierced the air, all of the walkers in a 100 foot radius turned like bloodhounds, and began to shamble at a slightly faster pace in that direction.

He couldn’t move.

She told him to go but he couldn’t move more than half a step at a time in the direction she told him, without looking back and squinting through the dark-light of the early morning hours; to try and catch the slightest glimpse of possibly the only person he’s got left in the world.

Right up until the moment he saw it.

A familiar glint of steel, from a familiar figure leading the dead’s march up the far hill; diagonally away from the highway.

Randall couldn’t tear his eyes away until she was at the top and glanced back over her shoulder. Not at him, but making sure the dead were in fact following her.

Before she disappeared over the other side.

Randall must’ve stood there for a solid minute, part of him hoping she’d come back and isn’t actually leaving him on his own, before he finally followed directions.

Randall looked down at the blade she’d shoved into his hand. ‘ _ Keep the sun over your left shoulder. _ ’

So that’s exactly what he did.

One hour. If she doesn’t come find him in one hour…

She will.

He doesn’t know her very well but she doesn't seem like the type a person to say somethin’ and not do it.

His gut twisted so hard he thought he was gonna puke, but his feet carried him in the direction his eyes fixed on. Glancing up at the sun every few seconds to make sure it stays exactly where she told him to keep it.

Every step, every minute that passed and every walker he saw that ignored him, made him so nauseous he’s no longer stumbling because of his leg.

Right up until he reached a slight hill with a guard rail at the top.

Excitement struck through his spine like lightning as he raced up the hill (almost face planting into the dirt twice).

As soon as he reached the top, he broke into the biggest grin of his life. Hope spiraled out of control in his chest as he climbed over the railing.

He stumbled into the middle of the road and frantically swung in both directions, looking for any sign of a car-jam and relief flooded his stomach.

Maybe a mile farther up, is the back ends of more than a few cars.

Randall was almost running — at least what passes for a run with this leg — towards the cars. Not a thought given to what could await him there. Only that she told him to go, and that’s where he’s going.  _ Without question. _

* * *

**Daryl’s POV**

I leaned to the side as I drove my bike around a dirt corner. The early morning fog barely being pierced by my headlight.

Every time Carol shifts behind me there’s a half a second when I think it’s Eve but my gut twisting is a reminder I could do without that it ain’t her.

She made it out. She’s probably with the others who were up by the house.

I looked at every walker with dark hair that we passed and every single time, my grip tightened and released. Relieved it ain’t her, and put even more on edge cause it ain’t.

The loud hum of the engine helps a little, hopin’ maybe if she’s nearby she might be able to hear it.

If she got out, she’ll be with the others. They’d have to follow the road from the house — the driveway.

That heads back towards the highway. Which is exactly where we’re headed now but we gotta take the back roads to avoid the herd.

I couldn’t see if anybody else got out but if anyone did, they’ll—

Two little red glows through the fog up ahead caught my attention.

“Do you see that?” I flinched at Carol’s voice behind me, glancing at ‘er. I wasn’t expectin’ that.

I ain’t used to the person behind me speakin’.

The closer we got to the taillights drifting on the road, the back of a green car began to come into view.

That’s Glenn & Maggie’s car.

I revved the engine as we got closer and the brake lights came on.

I rolled up next to them as the driver side window rolled down and sure enough. It’s Glenn & Maggie.

“Thank god.” Glenn muttered under his breath. “It’s good to see you two.”

“You two.” Carol sighed in relief behind me.

“Did you guys see anyone else get out?” Maggie asked immediately. Her eyes are red, looks like she’s been cryin’.

I shook my head. “Did either a you see Eve?”

“No” Glenn looked down, shaking his head. I forgot he’s Eve’s best friend.

“What do we do?” Carol asked, her hands shaking where they grip the sides of my jacket.

“Head back to the highway.” Glenn answered almost immediately.

I nodded. “That’s where Rick’ll go, Eve knows that.”

“The others too.” Glenn added, taking Maggie’s hand and squeezing it.

“Then that’s where we go.” I looked ahead and around, to make sure we ain’t about to get grabbed or nothin’. “You know where to go?”

“Yeah.” Glenn nodded.

“This road’ll take us straight to the highway.” Maggie added, nodding straight ahead.

I nodded, glancing ahead. “I can’t see shit in this, you go first. Bump any walkers ya see off the road.”

Glenn nodded before carefully pulling out in front and I followed behind; keeping a good follow distance in case they hit somethin’.

Eve’s smart. She knows what to do. She and Glenn think a lot alike. She’s gotta know the rest of us will go back to the same place.

As long as she got out with Lori and them, she’s fine.

She’s fine. She’s gotta be.


	100. Chapter 100

**3rd Person POV**

The sun seemed to rise higher and higher by the second, the light becoming brighter as Randall limped between cars. It’s been what? Ten minutes since they separated, and already it’s so much brighter out here.

He didn’t know there were this many cars on the highway farther down from where his people had camped out but if that herd tore through from here… there’s a good chance they’re either gone, or didn’t make it out.

As soon as Randall stumbled to the center of the car-jam, he could have collapsed in relief.

There near the center of a somewhat cleared space was the car Eve mentioned, and right in front of it, the little kid with the sheriff hat, Hershel, and the guy who was gonna let him go before.

Thankfully it was the kid who spotted Randall first.

And right after Rick and Hershel turned, a rumbling sound drew all of their attention to the other side of the road. Where the green car and a motorcycle came and parked next to them all.

Daryl looked around, clasping hands with Rick, glad to see him alive, but his eyes searched for someone he didn’t see. Skipping straight over the gut covered kid and looking straight towards the blue truck which was coming to a stop just on the other side of Maggie & Glenn’s car.

“Oh thank god!” Lori came running around the side, straight for Carl and her husband.

Daryl’s gut dropped, searching the people who are here once again. “Where’s Eve?”

“She was with me.” Randall raised his hand. “About ten minutes ago.”

“Where the Hell is she then? Why ain’t she here?” Rick clasped Daryl’s shoulder as his voice rose with his temper.

“We were walkin’ in a herd — she told me to go then she just left, leadin’ them away.” Randall spit out fast, pointing.

“Why would she do that?” Maggie questioned.

“Cause it’s who she is.” Rick answered without a second thought. “Knowin’ her, she wouldn’t wanna risk leadin’ a herd straight to us.”

“She told me to wait an hour.” Randall added, hoping it would somehow help.

“I’m goin’ to find ‘er.” Daryl went back to his bike.

“No.” Rick stopped him and for half a second he thought Daryl was actually going to sock him in the face but he put his hand up. “If she’s still leadin’ that herd, we’ll never find ‘er in the middle of all that.”

“Assuming she’s still alive that is.” T-Dog interjected. He didn’t want to be the one to say it, they all have faith in that woman’s abilities but even she has her limits.

She was pretty messed up the last time they all saw her at the house, too.

“All we can do is wait.” Rick looked Daryl in the eyes. “And  _ trust _ that she’ll find her way. She always does.”

Daryl turned anxious eyes towards the treeline. The sinkhole flashing through his mind. He knows Eve can handle herself but still. He can’t help being restless. Knowing she was so close and now she could be anywhere with god knows how many walkers around her or possibly chasing her.

She can’t go on for long in the state she was even before the farm was overrun. Nevermind now after however the Hell she got out — which he is still in the dark about.

“What about Andrea?” Glenn brought up. “Did anyone see her?”

“She saved me, then I lost her.” Carol answered.

“I’ll go back.” Daryl volunteered, partially so he can somewhat look for Eve, and partially because he can’t just sit here and wait. He’s never been good at that.

“No.” Rick shook his head.

“We can’t just leave ‘er.” Daryl argued, getting frustrated.

“She isn’t there.  _ She isn’t _ . She’s somewhere else or she’s  _ dead _ , there’s no way to find ‘er.” Rick made a point, even if everyone hates to admit it. “We can’t stay here. There have been walkers crawling all over this area.”

That’s when Daryl put his foot down. “I ain’t goin’  _ nowhere _ without Eve.”

“Me neither, Rick.” Glenn gave him an apologetic but unwavering look.

“I’m not going anywhere without her either, dad.”

Rick looked down at Carl.

“And it’s possible Andrea could show up during that time too.” T-Dog interjected once again.

Rick looked at each of them thoughtfully before finally sighing. He’s outnumbered.

“Fine, but we can’t be in the open like this. We need to head over there.” He pointed. “Somewhere with a little more cover, where we can still see this spot.”

It was reluctant but the group agreed to that at least.

* * *

Eve’s arms are really getting tired now; pretending to be stuck on a branch while the herd moves on without her, but it’s almost to the end now.

So it should finally be safe enough to slip away.

This herd was a lot bigger than she thought, either that or they’re just slower than she’d imagined. It took forever for them to pass but she thinks she still has time to get back.

As soon as she started off again though, she really felt the exhaustion.

She could fall asleep right here.

Fainting from fatigue is becoming a dangerously real possibility. She can’t afford that right now, for a number of reasons but she has to get to the highway. She doesn’t have much time left, if any at all.

She knows Randall at least is alive, and he should’ve reached the highway a long time ago.

She’s got maybe 10-15 minutes to get back before her hour’s up, as the crow flies.

She can’t afford to stop moving now. You know what they say, just keep swimming. Right?


	101. Chapter 101

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With blood caked hands, I wrestled the compass from my jacket pocket. Right now, you’re my only guide buddy. Don’t let me down.

My throat is so dry i’m almost wheezing; coughing and dry heaving every few minutes.

I’m too tired to keep running. I burned myself out leading that wild goose chase. Before it worked in my favor, but now it’s just a hindrance.

The sun has already risen and I just barely found the road.

There’s always gotta be another problem doesn’t there? I’m nowhere near the traffic jam.

I can hardly breathe never mind run anymore but my feet move anyway; out of nothing more than stopping being more work than just running my batteries dry. Even if my shoes are barely picking up off the pavement every 3rd step.

I have no idea how far up I am but I can see what I hope to god is the jam about two miles down from here.

I’ve been dragging my feet for awhile, despite my best efforts. The smell from this makeshift smell shield is making me sick but I don’t have anything in my stomach anyway.

My chest feels like it’s touching my spine with every breath I heave into my lungs but I have to get there as soon as possible. I don’t have a way of knowing for sure, but I know my time is almost up.

Randall should have long made it by now, with any luck the others should be too, assuming I’m right and they’ve gone where I’ve predicted.

God I hope so.

If they’re not there, or if the kid didn’t make it, I don’t know what I’m gonna do.

I don’t know where else to look for them.

If we’ve truly scattered there’s no telling if we’ll ever see each other again.

I’ll have no way of knowing if  _ anyone _ even made it off the farm, or if they all… and I would have to keep going, telling myself someone besides me has to have made it out. Clinging to all hope against Hell I’ll find them someday.

Wondering who could’ve made it. Never knowing for sure.

I don’t know if I could do that again.

It’s hard enough not knowing what happened to those two girls from the home and that was before death became the most likely possibility.

I couldn’t help scoffing at myself, looking at the littered garbage on the road as I did a scan.

This is one heck of a way to find out that leaving the group would’ve been a big mistake. Possibly the worst I’d ever make.

Worry would get me before the walkers. Or maybe that’s how they’d get me.

Pushing on, I did my best to dodge the walkers lingering in spaces far between each other. But with every step my first thought is, ‘Am I going to collapse’ or ‘Is this the last one I’ll be able to take’.

When I finally made it to the edge of the cars, it truly was my final step.

My knees hit the pavement hard and despite myself, I gasped sharply. My palms smacked against the pavement, reopening some of the nearly invisible cuts from the tree incident weeks ago and grinding small pebbles of asphalt into my flesh.

That’s the least of my worries at the moment but I certainly didn’t need to add to my growing list.

I shook my head, trying to catch my breath.

There’s no point thinking about ‘what ifs’, that’ll only make it worse. I need to focus on now. Right now.

I look up from the pavement and blinked really harshly. My vision swam, the sound of my own blood pumping in my ears drowning the rest of the world.

I tried to push myself up but my hand didn’t come off the pavement more than an inch before I fell forward and nearly brained myself on the chipped dirty yellow road line.

Fighting your own eyelids has always been one of the hardest fights. It’s a losing battle, everyone knows that but we try anyway. Even if we know it’s in vain.

The wind blew strands of my hair over my chapping lips but it feels nice. The gentle sweep over my clammy skin is neither cold nor warm.

I swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the dry cottony feeling that occupies your mouth when your throat is so dry it feels like you’re breathing aerosolized blood.

I barely turned myself over in an attempt to get up and my chest heaved.

The blue sky and little driftings of white clouds are barely visible through my eyelashes and they’re the  _ only  _ reason I haven’t lost the battle yet.

I can’t feel most of my body. I know I’m breathing really hard and everything hurts but… I’m just so tired.

I need a rest. I shouldn’t sleep…

It didn’t even register that I’d already lost and closed my eyes until a sound had them open again.

I could barely roll my head to the side a second ago but that sound. That familiar sound, had my consciousness clawing its way back up that slick cliff.

I’d know that sound anywhere.

I’ve ridden on it for too many miles to count.

There’s only one person I know who’d drive something that loud through all this.

I’m not gonna die like this.

I ran miles. I fought. I saved the kid, I lead the herd away, I got back to the road. I’m not stopping now. Not this close to the mark.

My fingers dug in, using every last thread of strength I’ve got left to roll back over and fight tooth & nail just to get onto my hands and knees again.

I can go a little farther.


	102. Chapter 102

My palms pressed against the metal of the car at my side as I tried to use every last muscle that hasn’t been injured or used to death yet, to get my feet back underneath me. Though it’s impossible not to use any of them when 90% of my entire body is this way.

The ones that are getting pulled burn like a rope that’s about to snap. My breaths came in rapid pants through my stinging dry nose but I hauled my torso up over the hood of the car with a final pull and my arms went limp over the grim-smeared silver metal.

‘ _ Come on _ ’ I dragged my palms back underneath me into a pushup position.

‘ _ Come on! Get up _ ’ I pushed three pumping breaths through my respiratory system and grit my teeth so hard it feels like my tooth’s gonna crack before forcing all that remaining energy into my arms.

I pushed off the car and staggered like a walker on legs shaking like a newborn horse.

They ache like all the marrow’s dried up and feel as weak as wet pretzels.

I managed two steps before I wobbled and slammed into the side of the car again, my hands slid off the side, barely able to catch a grip on the lowered window to keep myself from falling.

My breath fanned my shaking hands. My mouth dying for water, Hell I might even drink engine grease at this point.

I can’t hear anything but my own blood pulsing in my ears, and the wind doesn’t help either.

I let go of the car, pushing myself off and stumbled into something of a staggered drunk-jog before heat flushed my body, accompanying waves of intense pain from all areas of my body.

My head swam and I stumbled out from behind the car into a clearer part of the road and I can’t tell if the road is uneven or if it’s my own ankle but I couldn’t even blink before the pavement was fast approaching.

My hands barely came out but they did next to nothing to break my fall as I’ve finally hit my limit.

My cheek smashed into the gravel and I know it’s bruised, scratched, and bleeding now. 

I can’t go any farther. No matter how much I want to. No matter how much harder I try to fight, I can’t anymore.

My lips began to tremble.

I’ve done everything in my power, just to end up here.

A warm drop slid down my dirt & sweat caked cheek.

Is this really it?

Is this all there ever was for me? Despite every day I got up and expected nothing different, I could still get up and look up at the one thing that won’t ever change. That’ll always be here, as long as I am. But this is where it ends?

All this way, just to end up on the rough asphalt of a dirty abandoned street smelling like the corpse I’m destined to be, and not even able to take one last look at the only thing that’s always accompanied me no matter what was happening to me.

All my efforts — against all kinds of odds — and they take me barely to the cusp of another day and not a sliver farther.

Fate has a twisted sense of humor.

I’m tired. I’m so tired of going on like this.

Maybe… maybe this is where I should call it quits.

Heh, maybe this is where I’ve always been destined to hand in the towel.

It feels like my temple is vibrating, but I honestly can’t tell anymore why my vision’s blurred, and I’m not even going to try.

I don’t know what manner of creature screeches so high pitch and rough but I can take a dread inducing educated guess as the footsteps echo in my cotton-ears like the white noise of words on the other side of sealed glass.

I don’t even have the energy left to look.

This isn’t how I pictured my end.

I suppose no one is really accurate in that regard. It never actually hits you until it’s happening.

I never thought I would die alone. That’s a lie. I knew I would. But not this alone.

I always thought that even if I didn’t have anyone around, there would at least be  _ someone _ nearby. Whether I died in a hospital, a car accident, a mugging gone wrong, in my sleep, or of old age. There were too many people in this world to really be alone.

There would always be  _ someone _ within a few miles at the very least. Unless somehow I wound up in the middle of central Kansas or something; where there’s literally nothing but open flat fields and maybe windmills for hundreds of miles (trust me, I know from experience).

After I met the group I thought… I thought maybe even if I did die suddenly and unexpectedly, I actually wouldn’t be alone. There’d at least be people who would remember me, maybe even miss me, and I’d probably go out trying to keep them alive because that’s what I’ve done from the moment this all went belly up.

I suppose that’s exactly what I’ve just done.

I can’t even summon a bitter laugh at that thought.

I hope they’re safe.

I hope they found each other, at least some of them.

I hope none of them are alone.

There’s nothing more I can do for them, but god please… let it have been enough. Let them make it through this.

I didn’t even open my eyes as grimy hands grabbed at my back and shoulder and dragged me off my stomach, to my back.

My heart leapt into my throat, but not even the adrenaline spike can get my limbs moving. I can’t even tell if my muscles tensed but I surprised myself with the one thing that flickered into my mind like someone lighting a candle.

_ “Thought you could handle yerself.” _

_“I can._ _Doesn’t mean I don’t need someone there, or that I can’t get unlucky.”_

‘ _ I’m never gonna see him again…’ _

My throat closed up, another tear pouring down my cheek. 

_ ‘or Glenn, or Carl, or— _ ’

One sound and my eyelids cracked to see the vast blue. But not the blue I expected.

“Eve!”


	103. Chapter 103

**3rd Person POV**

Daryl swerved suddenly, just barely missing the walker that stumbled out from behind a car but Rick in the red truck behind him, slammed on the brakes; watching the walker he  _ recognized _ collapse.

Daryl’s bike screeched to a vicious halt that nearly led to his chest hitting the handles.

He glanced back and before he could even take a breathe, his heart stopped.

Daryl swung his leg off the bike, not even putting up the kickstand and forgot about the running machine, even when metal scraped the pavement as it tipped over without him to keep it up.

A mass of dark tangles splayed over the road consumed his attention like paper tissue in a bonfire.

He didn’t even realize he was going towards the body until Glenn and Rick got out of the cars just after he passed.

* * *

**Daryl’s POV**

“Eve!” Glenn called from somewhere behind me, hesitant and probing.

I half expected ‘er to just roll over and flash a cheeky smile like a little shit; like it’s a goddamn joke but she/it didn’t move.

Not so much as a muscle twitch.

My lungs are tryna suffocate me as I edged closer.

Part of me wants to run straight for her no holds barred and just flip ‘er over but the more cautious voice in my head is screamin’  _ Hell no _ .

My heart is battering my ribcage like a one man band as I got close enough to grab an arm off the road (never thought I’d say that).

The smell of rotting human flesh is practically vaping off whatever the Hell this gut-poncho is. All I can say is I’m glad I ain’t touchin’ that shit with my hands as I nudged the body on the back.

It didn’t move.

My but burned and I tossed the arm, finally giving in to ripping off the bandage. Just get it over with.

I grabbed it with my hands, ready to jump back just in case and dragged it onto it’s back.

No.

My kneecaps cracked against the asphalt but I barely noticed.

I heard a shout as I reached forward but it sounds like it’s underwater.

I pushed piles of dark hair out of her face, clumps of it still clinging to her grimy sweat glimmering skin.

I vaguely noticed my eyes stinging from not blinking, my lungs burning from not breathing, my knees aching, but I can’t feel anything except my hand.

The side of her head under my palm, holding her hair out of her face. I searched — hoping for any sign  _ anything _ on her face, the slightest muscle twitch, but there’s nothing.

“Eve!” Glenn gasped over my shoulder, right behind me.

It can’t— She’s too smart — too fast — too  _ Eve _ to just—

I looked down at her shoes and the whole world faded to white noise.

9 muddy lines.

I didn’t even realize I wasn’t breathing until all the air rushed my lungs like a popped balloon at a scratchy raw sound.

“ _ Boo _ ”

My eyes shot over, locking on the thinest slivers of Baltic amber.

A hoarse cough split clicked lips and I lunged forward without even thinking.

“Eve!—  _ She’s alive! _ ” Glenn shouted like he had a bull horn but I ignored him.

“Get water!” I snapped at him and he took off like a jack rabbit without a word.

I grabbed her shoulders — carefully — and lifted her up, slipping my hand behind her neck to hold her head and moved my knee behind her back to lean ‘er against and wrapped my arm behind her shoulders to keep her up.

Her head lulled against my shoulder, absolutely no strength in her neck. Even her eyes are just barely open.

“Don’t  _ ever _ do nothin’ like that again, do you hear me? Ain’t nothin’ allowed to kill you ‘cept me. You got that?” I didn’t speak loud enough for anyone else to hear me but the faintest hint of a smile ghosted over her lips.

Glenn came back with a water bottle almost sliding on his knees in front of me and unscrewed the cap, handin’ me the bottle like it’s a time bomb.

“Ey, don’t fall asleep yet.” I put the rim to her lips but she just groaned, not even lookin’ at it. Her eyes almost rolling back into ‘er head.

I looked at Glenn and jerked my head and he already knew to help me hold ‘er up. I leaned her back a little and pushed her chin down with my finger, opening her mouth.

I carefully poured a trickle of the clear liquid into ‘er mouth and she almost choked swallowing but it’s amazing what anything edible does to her attention span, even if she’s half dead.

Her eyes opened a little wider and I almost smiled.

I put the bottle to her lips again, pouring some more into her mouth and in less than 10 seconds she topped off the whole bottle.

I handed the empty plastic back to Glenn and wiped some of it off ‘er chin, before wrinkling my nose and looking down.

“Help me get this shit off ‘er.” I shifted her a little, the stench of this gut-coat finally gettin’ to me.

T-Dog crouched to help and it was harder than it should’ve been, but two minutes of struggling later and Glenn tossed it to the wind.

“Is she gon’ be ok?”

Eve’s eyes turned to the side, trying to turn her head at Randall’s voice and I shifted her so she could look.

I forgot she helped the kid to be honest but seeing him here, a noticeable relief flickered through her eyes.

‘ _ She was still worryin’ about the kid even like this? _ ’ I glanced at him before shifting her head back so her neck isn’t turned awkwardly.

“Bring ‘er over here, let me look at ‘er.” Hershel motioned to the cars and I nodded, grabbing her wrist and pulling her arm across her stomach so it won’t just hang.

I looped my arm under ‘er knees and around her back. “You good?”

She hummed, which is all I’m gonna get cause her eyes are closin’ again. She ain’t gonna be awake much longer.

It was a little awkward tryna get to my feet from the ground like this but I managed, without jostling ‘er too much.

“Mmm..inn” Eve groaned something not even the wind could’a heard.

“What?” my face screwed into confusion. “Muffin?”

She exhaled and if I didn’t know any better I’d say it was a huff before a torn ragged voice wheezed “I,” almost 3 octaves deeper and a whole lot rougher than normal.

“... _ win. _ ”


	104. Chapter 104

**Eve’s POV**

My body is heavier than plutonium right now but I feel light as a feather being back with my group. My partner.

I have to be one of the luckiest people to ever exist. Even though just breathing feels like being in labor right now.

I don’t know how long passed, time is kind of going in and out in bubbles of awareness but I know I drank at least half another water bottle that was put to my lips and as soon as Daryl (I assume) laid me down in the car, I was out like sand in the tide.

* * *

A deep breath inflated my aching lungs, pushing on my sore ribs as the glue seeming to hold my eyelids shut, began to crack.

I don’t wanna get up. It’s cold.

But that’s exactly why I’m awake.

The more I wake up, the colder it gets. Or rather, the more aware of it I become.

I tried to pull my jacket around myself tighter but the intense dull aching in every atom of my being, is making my entire body pulse; all the way down to my bones.

The only part of my body that  _ doesn’t  _ hurt is the half I know I slept on, and it’s tingling like a wasp’s nest.

Peeling my eyes open to the world around me, I blinked harshly; trying to rid myself of the haze of sleep but no matter how hard I try, it’s holding on tighter than a scared toddler.

However, not even that can keep the realization that I’m alone, at bay.

Panic struck through me as I looked around, not recognizing the interior of the car.

I pressed my hand into the backseat my face is squished against and pushed myself to sit up, wheezing as I grappled with the seat and my own pain receptors to get up.

My hand smacked the door handle, pulling on it to get myself the rest of the way up and I barely remembered to look around before all but kicking it open.

My boots hit the ground and I nearly collapsed, saved only by my hands grabbing the top of the car door out of pure instinct.

“Whoa whoa whoa, ey” an arm wrapped my back and I jumped, almost clobbering Daryl around the head (if my arms were up for cooperating at the moment, he’d have a bloody nose already).

“The Hell do ya think yer doin’? You shouldn’t even be awake yet, Sunshine.” Daryl scolded me as Glenn came around the car from the circle the group seems to be standing in—  _ in the middle of the road _ .

“Put that grown child back to bed.”

I deadpanned at T-Dog.

“Don’ give me that look.” he pointed at me. “You’re lucky you ain’t sleepin’ with the fishes after what you pulled.”

“I don’t go for merfolk.” I mumbled, and immediately regret it. My throat feels like the sahara and sounds like I’ve been smoking for 1000 years.

Glenn choked and Randall next to him snorted so hard  _ I felt it _ from here.

I flinched as Daryl squeezed my side a little too hard. “If you got the energy to make stupid jokes, you should be layin’ down.”

“I don’t wanna lay down.” I mumbled like a dejected little kid, voice much softer .

“She gets weird when she’s tired.” Beth  _ almost _ smiled but looks like she’s too stressed.

Everyone looks stressed.

“It’s like when she got drunk and started talking about pancakes.” Carl muttered to her, shaking in his dad’s big tan jacket.

“Alright alright. We need to focus on the problem at hand.” Rick brought everyone back.

I looked at Daryl for explanation and he just brought my arm over his shoulders, helping me walk to the circle.

I feel like I’m about to be sacrificed.

He sat me down on his bike, “Stay. If I see ya so much as bouncing yer leg, yer goin’ back in the truck.”

What am I, a misbehaving pet?

“No. Yer worse.”

Oops, did I say that outloud?

“What do you think?”

I bit my lips.  _ ‘Apparently filter is broken. Check back later when tank is full. _ ’

Where the Hell are we? I’m so hungry I think my intestines just got a foot shorter. Is there any water?

This looks like a long two way road through some backwater woods. A scenic long distance traveller’s road. With nothing but forest for miles. Then again, this is Georgia.

“Glenn and I could make a run, try to scrounge up some gas.” Maggie suggested, whispering the last part and glancing around with the shotgun in her arms held tight; Ready to just swing and shoot at a moment’s notice.

Jesus, I can  _ taste _ the tension. What the Hell happened while I was asleep?

I only remember laying on the ground, thinking this was my final stop. Then Daryl, and water, and the loveliest nap of my life.

“No, we stay together.” Rick nipped that idea in the bud. “God forbid something happens and people get stranded without a car.”

“Rick we’re stranded now.” Glenn reminded, glancing through the woods around us.

“I know it looks bad. We’ve all been through Hell and worse, but  _ at least we found each other _ .” Rick stressed. And I can’t agree more.

It doesn’t matter where we are, or what happens around us so long as we stick together, we’ll be ok.

“I wasn’t sure, I—I really wasn’t. But  _ we did _ . We’re  _ together _ .  _ We keep it that way. _ ”

“We’ll find shelter somewhere, there’s gotta be a place.” Rick turned, looking around like you can actually see more than ten feet into the forest.

If there is a place like that around… I don’t think it’ll be unoccupied. I don’t think it’s somewhere we can  _ find _ .

“Rick look around. There’s walkers everywhere, they’re—they’re migrating or something.” Glenn reasoned, almost pleading.

“There’s gotta be a place not— not just where we hole up. But where we fortify.” Rick’s not just answering now, he’s thinking out loud. “Hunker down. Pull ourselves together, build  _ a life _ for each other.” Whoa getting a little aggressive there, Officer.

“I know it’s out there we just have to  _ find it. _ ”

We can’t count on finding a place like the CDC or Hershel’s farm again. Both of those places fell to the walkers within days or weeks of when we found them.

We’ll have better luck building the place ourselves—...

Actually. That’s not such a bad idea.

Assuming we can find somewhere with a good enough foundation.

Even that’ll be tough to find outside of the cities (which crawl with walkers). And we’re not the only people out there with an idea like that. G’s group is enough proof of that; even if they’re not there anymore.

I really hope my predictions about their place were wrong, but I’m not holding my breath.

“Even if we do find such a place.” Maggie started. “And we think it’s safe, we can never be sure. For how long.”

She has a point. Unless we design it very carefully. Specifically so that it  _ will _ last.

“Look what happened with the farm. We fooled ourselves into thinking that was safe.” Maggie persisted.

“We won’t make that mistake again.” Hershel interjected.

To do that, we need to figure out what went wrong. Why wasn’t it safe? Why haven’t any of the places we’ve been to, or seen, withstood the test of time?

The pitfall of all the places out there right now is they’re either: not designed to withstand the world today, they’re not self-sufficient enough to sustain themselves, or they’re poorly constructed; often in a hurry to just have a place defensible enough to sleep at night.

The farm in the countryside, G’s place in the city, and the CDC are all great examples of each flaw. Hell, even the quarry camp is a good example to draw from.

The problem with the farm: not built to withstand walkers.

The CDC: not built to sustain itself.

G’s place: constructed in a hurry and to be a temporary hideout until they could get out of the city (he said so himself).

The problem with the quarry: no sight lines, no defenses, not even early warning systems.

We were sitting ducks on that hilltop, but that was before we had any idea of what we’re dealing with on a day to day basis.

Hell, some were still hoping for rescue or a way out back then.

It feels like so long ago. In reality it’s only been a few months since then.

I know Rick wants this place more than anything right now. But… I’m not sure it’s even obtainable anymore. Something like that isn’t just dropped into your lap. If it were, there’d be much larger factions of the population surviving.

Maybe that’ll change down the line someday, but for now, the best we can hope for is a base camp.

Things will never be like they were before. We won’t ever be able to let our guard down not just against walkers, but against people who want what we have and nothing to stop them from simply killing us and taking it.

There’s gotta be a way. There always is.


	105. Chapter 105

I rubbed my forehead, waves of exhaustion hitting me again like bricks being stacked on my shoulders. Enough someone could probably build a house around me.

Thinking that far ahead isn’t a good idea. It gives you unrealistic views and hopes of the future. Which could get us killed. It’s good to have a goal like that to work towards, but we need to focus on what comes next  _ right now _ .

“That’s not important right now.” I looked at Rick specifically. “We need to focus on our immediate concerns: Food, water, warmth, shelter. Everything else can—  _ needs _ to be sidelined for a later discussion.” I emphasized for the sake of our pressing concerns that seem to be going ignored for the sake of yet another pointless group fight.

Rick nodded, the group finally refocusing and taking a much needed but stale breath.

“We’ll make camp tonight. Over there.” Rick pointed through a sparser section of the trees, at a little space of brown-greyish cobblestone stone walls. “Get on the road at the break of day.”

There’s no telling what it could’ve been, before. A house or some kind most likely, but there’s stuff like that all over the East Coast. Old and pulling over from another century.

Most of the group stepped forward to get a look at where Rick’s pointing.

I breathed out, specifically watching my breath. It’s starting to turn white. It could snow any day now.

“Does this feel right to you?” Carol drew my and Daryl’s attention, even Glenn paused to glance at her as he walked past behind me.

“Right now we need to rest. That’s as good a place to start as any.” I answered.

“Damn you get chatty when yer dead on yer feet.” Daryl mumbled, picking up his crossbow off the back of the bike and checking it over.

I shrugged, not even bothering with a comeback. My only goal right now is to go back to sleep —  _ without  _ worrying that the group’s gonna rip each other a new one the second I’m not looking. So whatever gets me there, hallelujah.

Beyond tonight though, we need to think about where to find gas around here. And where the Hell we even are — I still have no idea which direction we went, what road this is, how long we’ve been driving, where to even start looking for places to replace all the supplies we lost, what supplies we  _ did _ manage to save, the list goes on and on.

I want to bang my head against a rock, or lie down on this street and just knock out for a few hours.

I’m too tired for this. But someone’s gotta think about it and clearly no one else is in a state to.

Why’s it always me? Why am I always the one focused on swingin’ the bat instead of trying to predict where the ducking ball is gonna fly.

Whatever, they can think about what’s happened. I’m gonna focus on us not dying at the moment, while they process the events of today.

This is what you get for not paying attention.

I blew my hair out of my face, knowing if I try to reach my hand up right now, I am gonna wanna kill myself for it.

I smacked my lips, feeling the sandpaper muscle in my mouth try to shred the roof of my sore mouth.

Water. That’s our next quest.

Gas is a tomorrow problem.

We need to take stock of what supplies we’ve got left, and what was grabbed from the house before we all split.

Warmth is next. We need to get started on setting a camp for the night before the temperature drops too low and we lose the light. Which is fading  _ fast _ .

I estimate... we got about a half hour. Maybe less.

“I hate to be that guy, but what if more walkers come through?” Randall hesitated to open his mouth but somebody’s gotta ask. I nearly jumped, forgetting he’s right behind me.

Just to be safe from another surprise, I looked around taking note of where everyone is.

“Or another group like Randalls.” Beth went up to Rick, worry and skepticism practically engraved on her face like a stone tapestry.

Randall shifted, subtly moving behind Daryl & I, almost hiding behind us.

I guess he’s still uncomfortable with the mention of his old affiliations.

I don’t blame the kid. I’ve shielded him from the group before. Daryl and Glenn have too. It makes sense why he’d feel safest smack bang in the center of the three of us.

But as far as I’m concerned, those past ties are exactly that. In the past.

He’s got nowhere else but stay with us now. And he’s proved himself, to  _ me _ at the very least. It would’ve been all too easy for him to let me die, but he didn’t.

“You know Randall didn’t try to escape, right?” Glenn suddenly brought up. Bringing Rick’s attention to our little cluster over here by the guard rail.

“Shane tried to kill both of them _ . _ ” Glenn motioned at me, and the kid.

That got Rick’s attention but judging from the look on his face, it doesn’t surprise him.

Speaking of which, I can’t help but notice that particular officer isn’t here. Neither is Andrea.

Did they not get out?

My throat closed a little; surprising me.

I was gonna kill Shane myself, and Andrea & I didn’t see eye to eye most often but,... I feel strangely... disheartened? Sad?

In Andrea’s case it’s understandable. I didn’t like the woman on a personal level, doesn’t mean I wanted her dead. But for Shane?

The Shane I knew — the one I counted on and maybe even thought of as a friend, died a long time ago.

I shouldn’t be feelin’ sad for someone who tried to kill me. I don’t.

I just… am bitter that it came to this. Cause there was a time I wouldn’t have even thought Shane capable of something like that.

“Speaking of which, you never told us what happened out there.” T-Dog looked between us all.

I looked at Randall, and he looked at me like ‘should I tell them or should you?’.

I sighed, turning back to face the group.

“I was comin’ back from checking the river and heard voices.”

“Of course you went to check it out.” Glenn nodded like he doesn’t need any further explanation — he probably doesn’t actually. He and Daryl both, just judging by their faces, know  _ exactly _ what I did next.

“He didn’t try to bullshit you?” Rick looked a little skeptical.

I deadpanned at him and Daryl scoffed next to me.

“Bullshit Eve? You’d have better luck tryna convince the wind to stop blowin’.”

Ooo that was a good one. I nodded in approval, giving him a thumbs up.

“When we found ‘em there was a walker from Randall’s group on the ground. He’d turned, but he wadn’t bit.” Daryl shook his head, staring at Rick for answers.

“How’s that possible?” Beth pressed for answers.

“Rick, what the Hell happened?” Lori added even more pressure.

Rick looked at me. The weariness in his eyes more prominent than I’ve ever seen in any except my own; a  _ looong  _ time ago.

His gaze went to my head, exactly where my head is pounding the hardest and most sensitively, glancing down to my ribcage where one of my hands crossed over, delicately cradling the side that’s making it the hardest for me to breathe.

“Secrets are like poison, Rick.” His eyes moved back up to mine. “The longer you hold onto it, the worse it’ll be.”

The moment he sighed, looking down at his boots, I know he gave in.

A gruff, tired and guilt-ridden voice came through his lips, and plunged the hair raising quiet of the woods into deafening silence.

“We’re all infected.”

…

Oh  _ fu— _


	106. Chapter 106

You’ve gotta be grilling my bananas right now.

As if our lives aren’t hard enough as is.

“What.” Daryl deadpanned, his voice being all the indication needed that he doesn’t believe what he just heard.

“At the CDC. Jenner told me.” Rick admitted.

“Whatever it is...” Rick shook his head, before all but whispering in a tired gravelly voice, “We all carry it.”

Wait so… let me wrap my head around this.

If we all carry it, then it’s gotta be a non-lethal pathogen of some sort. It only takes over  _ after _ death or after direct infection. So that means it’s gotta be spread by not just bites or scratches.

“And you never said anything.” Carol 

“Would it have made a difference?”

Oh my god.

I dipped my head, running a hand through my hair, letting it settle over my mouth.

“That is not your call.” I don’t think I’ve ever heard Glenn sound so betrayed.

“Kay, when I found out about the walkers in the barn, I  _ told _ for the good of everyone.” Glenn spoke fast.

Rick looked at him like he’s ready to square up. “Well I thought it best if people didn’t know.”

Glenn stared at him, mouth agape. Like he doesn’t recognize the person he’s looking at.

I understand why Rick didn’t tell us. He’s a cop. It’s second nature to not share information that could cause panic. Doesn’t mean it was the right thing. Or any less shocking.

But everything looks better in the rearview.

Truthfully if I’d been in his position, I might’ve done the exact same thing. With one key difference.

I wouldn’t have kept it from  _ everybody _ . I’d have shared my suspicion with at least Rick, Daryl, and probably a few others I know can keep a level head (like Dale, or at the time Shane, maybe even Lori), but I wouldn’t have told the whole group until I knew for certain.

I know from experience that not talking to people about the important stuff, is a good way to drive a divide between you and them. That used to mean ending up in isolation, now… it could mean our lives.

This affects  _ everyone’s _ safety. That — no matter if he only did it because he thought it was right — is not something I can let pass unchecked.

“I’m not gonna say it was the right decision,”Rick and the others looked at me. “I understand why you did it, but we’re not kids Rick. We don’t need to be sheltered from the truth. Keeping this to yourself put all of us — _ including you _ and your family — at risk. That was something we needed to know sooner rather than later.”

“How was I supposed to know what that crazy son of a bitch said had any truth to it?” he almost bore his teeth at me, taking an understandably agitated approach with me.

Daryl stiffened and I grabbed his arm immediately before the signature Dixon attitude can rear its head. The last thing I need right now is to end another fight; at this point I might just let it happen if one breaks out and that won’t be good for anyone.

“You don’t need to know everything, nobody does or ever did. The whole point of sticking together is to take the pressure on each of our shoulders down to manageable levels.”

“I know you didn’t know for sure and that’s why you were hesitant to say anything, but I need to know you understand that this ignorance could have cost us a lot more than it did. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather keep our losses to as few and non-critical as we can manage.”

Rick locked his jaw, glancing down. A dead giveaway I recognize by this point, as him giving in to at least giving some serious thought to what’s been said.

However, turning his back and walking away without a word, leaving the rest of us to stare after his rigid back? That’s new.

This new behavior has me worried.

Lori pat her son’s head and gestured at me before following after her husband.

Carl came over by me and I ruffled his hair.

What did Jenner say when he was explaining while he showed us that research footage? It could be viral, bacterial, or fungal?

He was researching but maybe he was looking at it wrong. He didn’t have a lot to go off of from what I saw.

Before we had showed up, he assumed it was spread by bite. I’m not sure if he knew about scratches too, but now I’m rethinking.

If we all carry it, and aren’t walkers yet, then maybe it spreads differently than we thought.

It’s more likely spread not by a bite or a scratch, but by bodily fluids or even through physical contact.

Not one of us hasn’t been touched by a walker, or touched someone who was already carrying it.

It would make sense for it to be bacterial because that would explain how we all carry it, but aren’t walkers. Our immune systems could be strong enough to fight it off but if we got a larger sudden dose of the pathogen like being bitten by an infected mouth riddled with the bacteria, or scratched by dirty fingernails also teaming in it, or ingested more of the infection — like if some of the blood got in your mouth during a kill and you accidentally swallowed it or something.

There’s no way to find out anymore. Not for us at least. But I can’t help thinking about it. Human curiosity, the curse and cure for us all.

Carl stepped closer to me, shivering and tugged on his shoulder, pulling him around my knee so I can get my arms around him, rubbing his back.

We should get the fire started sooner rather than later.

I looked at Daryl and he nodded. Eve speak strikes again.

“‘Ey, grab some a them branches right there.” Daryl pointed, in front of T-Dog at the edge of the road where one of the trees have fallen down.

I went to stand up and Carl shifted to help me. He is like the perfect height for this.

My legs feel like pulled taffy that’s been set on fire.

I rubbed Carl’s arm instinctively, trying to warm him up a little. Come on, bubba. Let’s go get you warmed up. 

“Eve, would you mind walking Carl and Beth here down to the campsite?” Hershel asked.

I nodded, and motioned at the young blonde girl to follow.

She moved from her place tucked under her dad’s arm and came to my side, giving me a brief shy smile.

The dying grass crunched with my first step onto it, followed by the others and soon we made it almost all the way to the weary crumbling stone enclosure.

I sat the kids down near the middle and looked around with a more scrupulous eye.

It’s not much but it’s better than nothing.

It’s mostly dead leaves and twigs but it’s mostly flat, I don’t see any hazards like exposed rebar or broken glass or anything so that’s a good sign.

However, it’s got two openings, on both sides. That’s better than a bottleneck of one entrance but it makes me a little nervous considering how easy it will be to get ambushed.

It’s better than an open camp though.

If we dig a little pit for the fire, it’ll help hide the light from people, wild animals, and walkers alike.

I walked (however feebly) to the other side, looking out.

There’s another darker stone wall about 50 feet from the back entrance. The forest’s kinda thin here but now I think I know why. It looks like a damn of some sort. A small one, for like a tiny lake or something. There’s a little bit of water leaking off the top and looks like it’s created a small gutter-like stream along the base, running off into the deeper forest.

I can’t see much else very well from back here. Gosh why does the Georgia forest have to be so thick?

Sight lines aren’t great right here, but they’re better than the farm, where the trees came right up to 9/10ths of the property lines.

That makes me nervous, but we don’t have much of a choice. It’s better than hanging in the wind.

Still we shouldn’t stay here longer than we have to.


	107. Chapter 107

I coughed onto the back of my hand as I turned back, watching T-Dog, Glenn, and Daryl come through the other side facing the road with the fire stuff and some of the gear we managed to save.

‘ _ Please tell me that’s not all of it. _ ’ I watched them set down a couple backpacks, including my own, but I distinctly don’t see the ammo bag with all of our guns (aside from the ones each of us are carrying).

Daryl met my eyes and apparently Eve speak is a two way street because that face says exactly what I don’t want to hear.

I licked my lips between my teeth, biting them into a tight line as I forced in a deep breath. It gave my lungs a deep, aching stretch. Reminding me how much of a position I’m  _ not in  _ to deal with this right now.

“What’s over there?” Beth looked behind me curiously.

I swallowed the dry lump in my throat — at least attempted to — and hoarsely cracked, “Water.”

“Here” Glenn took the cap off a bottle and handed it to me.

_ ‘Why’d he give me this? _ ’ I took the bottle and drank some of it nonetheless and great googly moogly does that taste good. Water never tasted so great but we don’t have a lot of this left — …. I’m dumb. I literally  _ just  _ found more.

So we should probably actually drink what we’ve got and fill up our supply while we’re here.

I felt eyes on me as I lowered it from my lips again and Beth is still looking at me like she’s expecting something. Carl too.

I looked at Daryl and even he — oh.

“Water, as in a stream.” I jabbed my thumb over my shoulder.

“Oh” Glenn nodded, catching on now.

“That’s good right?” Carl took the bottle as I passed it to him. “Means we don’t have to go find some?”

I hummed, ruffling his hair with a little less enthusiasm than normal but I could fall asleep on my feet at any moment so give me a break.

“Good. You should go get this crap off ya then.” I almost jumped as Daryl swiped his finger down my cheek, looking at it in disgust.

I didn’t think there was anything on my skin. I thought I only got it on the gut jacket.

“Yeah, you startin’ to smell real ripe there.” T-Dog grimaced, and normally where I’d expect to see hints of amusement or a smile, there isn’t. Not even from Glenn or the kids.

Jesus help us. If we can’t even find the fact I apparently smell like the wrong end of a skunk, we’re in serious trouble.

I turned my nose down towards my shoulder and coughed, choking on a gag.

Yeah I’ll deal with morale later, they aren’t kiddin’ about that smell.

“Dig a pit first. It’ll be safer.” I pointed at the spot on the ground where the fire should be and left it in their hands while I hobble down the slight hill to that stream.

The leaves crunched under my feet even in the darker looking spots where they’re a little wet.

That’s not so good for moving unnoticed, but at least sneaking up on us will be difficult. So at least we don’t have to worry about that.

That puts my mind at ease a little. Now if only everything else would just get in line so I can take a 15 hour nap.

I used a small tree, not even 5 years old I’d guess, to get on my knees and plunge my hand into the water.

I gasped at the immediate assault of icy liquid.

This isn’t gonna be fun to put on my face.

My cheeks twisted up, forehead screwing down in a grimace as I drew a deep chilling breathe through my nose.

‘ _ Here goes. Prepare to be cold. _ ’

I held my breath as I scooped the frigid flowing h2o into my palm and splashed it straight into my face, slamming my eyes shut.

Shivers wracked down my spine as I rapidly gasped but I did it again and again trying to clean it off as fast as possible but I don’t even know where this gunk is.

So I just covered my whole face, trying not to get up and run away because of how cold it is, until my entire face is cold and wet. Like a sad puppy on a rainy day.

I really don’t want to take my jacket off, I’m already shivering but it could use a dip too. The longer this sludge sits on it the worse it’ll smell and the harder it will be to scrub off. Not to mention it isn’t just mud, it’s decaying cells and those could cause problems all on their own.

Even though there’s only stray drips (probably splattered from kills) it’s still turning my stomach over now that the smell has been pointed out to me. And I can’t afford to lose what little is  _ in _ my tank at the moment, we don’t have a lot to replace it.

I sighed, taking a few successive hyping breaths as I tried to shrug it off. Only it’s being stubborn and I flailed, trying to find a way to get it off that doesn’t hurt.

It’s not going well.

Leaves crunched behind me and I turned faster than I probably should have but what’s a little more burning ache in my torso. I almost can’t tell what’s actually hurting at this point. I just hurt. Everywhere.

“Relax. Not even a pack a wolves would try to eat ya, smellin’ like that.” Daryl came to my side, swinging my backpack off his shoulder and setting it next to me, along with his crossbow.

“Here”

I turned, letting him help me get this stupid thing off and tried not to hiss or flinch when his cold fingers grazed the top of my shoulders as they hooked under the collar, sliding the leather protection off.

I shivered as the plummeting temperature of the air hit my exposed skin and he helped me work my arms out of the stubborn sleeves.

“What have you got so far?”

I quirked a brow, looking at him as he came around to my side, crouching next to me.

“You’ve had yer thinkin’ face on since ya woke up.”

Hm, I didn’t know I had a thinkin’ face.

“That one.” He dipped a faded red cloth into the water and I smiled at his face when he touched it.

Yeah, that’s a lot colder than it looks. Could I have warned him? Maybe. Would I have? NoPe.

He rung the cloth out before squishing it straight onto my forehead, almost pushing my head back.

_ HOoo COLD—!!! _

My eyes slammed shut as I reeled. Don’t you think I didn’t hear you laugh just now, Dixon.

The cloth scrubbed over my forehead before pulling away and dipping back into the water.

I watched the cloth like a needle, pressing my lips into a tight line.

“So ya gonna share or what.”

I blew air out of my mouth, only just realizing I was holding my breath, and licked my lips again. I gotta find some chapstick or something.

“Just thinking ahead.” I glanced back at the camp where the fire’s already going. It’s getting darker by the second.

“Yeah, ya always are, aren’t ya.” I flinched as the cloth hit my cheek.

“No one else is.”

“Yeah” Daryl sighed, his breath making my wet skin even colder.

“Ya never answered my question.”

I looked at him, startled by how close the cloth was to my eye and the fact he grabbed my jaw to keep me from reeling back again.

As if the cloth wasn’t cold enough, his fingers are like icicles.

“What have you got so far.” He finally rung the cloth out and  _ didn’t _ throw it at my face again, just sat back on his heels to listen.

I sighed. I don’t feel like talking anymore. Can’t I just be silent for awhile again?

Talking makes me winded. I know that’s a foreign concept to those who talk every day but I’ve been doing a lot more of it than I’m used to the last few weeks.

It’s exhausting, how do you guys do it?

“You ok?”

I hummed, not even bothering to nod this time. That takes too much energy.

“Just, thinking about what comes next.”

“Like… when you die?” he looked at me funny.

“Noo” I returned the funny look. “What we’re gonna do next.”

“Just keep pushin’ on. Like we did before.”

“But for how long? Till there’s no one left?”

Daryl shook his head. “Till we find somethin’ better to do.”

Hopefully that involves hot running water and cushie comfortable beds again because I can’t feel my face, I’m tired, hungry, freezing my eyelashes off, wet, and there’s plenty of penthouse suites out there unoccupied right now.

If the cities weren’t crawling with walkers, there’s no way in  _ Hell _ I would stay camping out in the woods.

I’d get me a place with a nice view, plenty of resources, deck it out with plenty of ways to get in and out, traps, you name it. And we could all live there together and you know, maybe get some modern tech working again.

Now  _ that’s _ a dream set up.


	108. Chapter 108

I hope we find that ‘better’ sooner rather than later. You can only endure something for so long before you start to wonder if it’s even worth it.

Holding onto the believe that it does end, that it won’t be like this forever is the only thing that gets you through.

I stared at my cold red hands. The dirt collected under my gross long fingernails; well overdue for a trimming and harboring who knows what sort of bacteria.

My teeth dug into my bottom lip, warming it instantly through folding it into my mouth, away from the cold.

“Ey,” Daryl nudged me with his elbow. “you good?”

I stared into baby blue eyes, mapping every little flake and nodded.

“Come on, let’s go back.” Daryl stood, taking my elbow.

My knees cracked as he helped me to my feet. Even my toes popped.

Daryl picked up his crossbow, brushing off the leaves stuck to the end.

I blew a sigh out of my mouth, letting my cheeks puff up as we walked (trudged) back up to the campsite.

I don’t know what we’re gonna do. I really don’t. I don’t have the capacity to think of a plan right now.

I just need some sleep.

We stepped into the flickering glow of the fire through the opening and I went to the side, taking a seat next to Carol, by my backpack.

Daryl knelt next to me, picking up a stick to stoke the fire everyone’s sat around.

I don’t know when we decided on who’s got watch but T-Dog’s standing on top of the stone wall with a rifle the size of a sludgehammer, so I guess I’m gonna sleep well tonight.

I sat down carefully, and wiped my hands off on my jeans before getting my backpack open.

The only way I’m gonna be able to sleep tonight is if I get stock of our supplies. I have to know what we’re working with or I won’t even be able to lay down.

It’s eerily quiet around the fire. Everyone’s got their guns in their laps, you can taste the tension like a 3 course meal.

I started pulling my gear out one at a time, checking over what I’ve got left, what I need more of, what’s damaged and what isn’t.

Thank goodness my night vision goggles are still in decent condition. I haven’t had occasion to use them much because wandering around in the dark isn’t a good idea.

It’s a shame. I really like these things. It’d be cool if I could use them more, but to effectively use night gear like this, we’d need the entire group to be able to see and move at night. Like a military unit.

We’d need goggles, silencers, camouflaging clothes.

Basically, we’d need to raid a military base or unit or something.

It’s been months but I still can’t see how the military lost against walkers.

You’d think with all the world’s military mights, bunkers, weapons, strategies, everything that they’d be able to contain the threat. Even at the cost of millions — even billions. Entire cities.

I think it’s fair to say that for the sake of the entire species, sacrificing even entire continents would be worth it.

It would’ve lead to a time darker than the dark ages, and more desolate than the world wars, but at least there would have been  _ something _ left.

Instead, as far as we know, there’s just scattered groups of lawless people. Running around like rats in mazes trying to survive the plague that very well might condemn all life on the entire planet.

Cause it’s not just people walkers go after. It’s everything.

I knew society was all but done for after this, but I think even I’ve been thinking too small for this ripple effect.

The entire planet.

8 billion people and 99.9% of them, in all likelihood, are or will be walkers in the next ten years. That’s a lot of mouths to feed. Mouths with no restraint. Mouths that will eat anything — as far as we know — that can only die through one specific place in the head.

And we made it so easy to get to virtually every corner of the globe.

I wonder how many species have become endangered already. How many are already gone.

What whatever the heck this is, is doing to ecosystems all around the world. How it’s mutating, being exposed to so many different things.

And we have no way of knowing.

No way of knowing exactly what fate we’ve condemned this rock that was once teeming with life, to.

A bitter smile curved my lip as I stared at the fire.

If you’d told a 16 year old me that I’d be one of the last people standing, and get to witness the end of the world… I don’t know what I would’ve done.

Perhaps I’d have become a researcher at the CDC or something, specializing in viruses or something. And I’d have gotten more training. Like military training or something. A doomsday backup plan for the world.


	109. Chapter 109

Well isn’t this a cheery bunch.

I glanced at my friends around the fire. Every one of them looking bitter or exhausted or both, or even worse but at least I don’t see anyone who looks like they’re shutting down.

Not even Carl, or Beth and Randall.

Despite everything we lost, and how thin the thread is, everyone’s still keeping it together. That’s much better than the last two times we lost our camp, our supplies, our hope, and eviscerating casualties.

“We’re not safe with him. Keepin’ somethin like that from us.” Carol whispered harshly at us.

I gave her a look, not really feeling up to saying ‘he has his reasons’ right now but she should know better than this. What’s gotten into her?

“Why do you need him, he’s just gonna pull you down.” Carol whispered bitterly, looking between us.

“Nah, Rick’s done alright by me.” Daryl shook his head, dismissing Carol’s statement and I nodded in agreement.

He might be a little off kilter at the moment, but Rick’s never intentionally tried to hurt us.

“You’re his henchmen.” She looked between the two of us. “And I’m a burden.” That sounds like a you problem. There are things you can do to change that if you really want, but it sounds more like you’re just takin’ the piss; looking for someone or something to blame.

“You deserve better.” Carol looked between us, but mostly at Daryl; taking glances at what he’s doing to the fire.

Daryl glanced at me and we shared a look.

“What do you want?” Daryl looked at her, genuinely unable to think what this woman could possibly expect from him.

“A man of honor” That sounds like a little girl waiting for a knight in shining armor to come save her.

“Rick  _ has _ honor.” Daryl defended him and honestly I can’t help but agree.

Rick is many things and I don’t know much about his life before this, but dishonorable is the  _ last _ thing I’d associate with him.

Even at his worst moments all I can see is frustration and/or pain. Trying to use his head and not make a rash decision even if he’s working with next to nothing and is so fried he belongs on the McDonald’s menu.

“I think we should take our chances.” Maggie looked at Glenn.

“Don’t be foolish.” Hershel interjected beside her, in the tired worn voice you’d expect to hear of an old war veteran. The kind of voice someone only gets from seeing too much, and frankly, I think we all probably have that voice by now.

I know that when I look around this circle, at the eyes of my friends around me… everyone’s — even Carl’s — eyes look older than their faces.

Everything we’ve been through, it’s almost funny to know this is exactly what it’s like being at war. In a military unit, behind enemy lines. Only ours is constant. Never quite sure if we’re safe enough to rest and get thrust into absolutely crazy situations but don’t have any choice.

No back up, all on our own out here. Never quite sure which breath will be your last but you do everything in your power to make sure it isn’t the one you’re taking right now.

“There’s no food,” Hershel started. Beth, sitting in front of her father, looked at the few backpacks of supplies we  _ do _ have. “no fuel,” Hershel continued, “and no ammo.”

Leaves rustled like someone had thrown a stone across the forest floor outside the encasing of our henge and it was like an air raid siren had gone off.

“What was that?” Beth asked, exhausted and afraid, but her voice still more cautious than panicked; almost brave. It makes me oddly proud for some reason.

“Could be anything.” Daryl was quick to offer a calm explanation, in a tone like he knows exactly what it is but I know he’s just trying to stop them from panicking again. Honestly a pigeon could spook this lot like a flock of birds right now.

“Could be a racoon, could be a possum.” He stood up and in half a second, everyone was on their feet, all heads turning in the direction of the sound.

“Or a walker.” That’s not helping Ace.

I can almost taste the fear. The panic rising. It’s actually putting me off right now.

Sweet Ambrosia god, please be something we can eat. I’ll take  _ squirrel  _ at this point.

The firepit smoke changed direction and I coughed as it wisped straight into my face.

Daryl looked at me and I waved him off, planting my hands in the dirt so I can turn my side against it.

Every cough sent violent twinges through my ribs and I barely have the strength in my arms to  _ struggle _ turning away from it.

A hand appeared in front of my face and I took it without even thinking, letting Daryl pull me up and out of the smoke.

“We need to leave. I mean what are we waitin’ for?” oh god Carol sounds — and looks — like she’s about to take off.

“Which way?” Glenn asked, gripping the shotgun in his hands tight.

“It came from over there.” Maggie stood beside him, her own shotgun in the exact same position; both of them ready to aim and squeeze the second something happens.

“Back from where we came.” Beth stood just behind her sister, in front of Hershel who turned around to look out the back of the henge; in the opposite direction everyone else is.

Lori wrapped her arm over Carl’s chest from behind him. The two of them being the only ones who haven’t stood up now.

“The last thing we need is for everyone to be runnin’ off in the dark. We don’t have the vehicles. No one’s travelling on foot.” Hmph, you’re starting to sound like quite the general Rick. Using your authority voice to make everyone listen instead of trying to calm them down for a change.

He’s standing at the entrance (closest to where the sound came from) almost like a sentry guard, so no one can just go running past him. But one look at his face is more than telling of how done he is with all of this.

Can’t say I blame him either. My patience ran out a long time ago and is barely recovering through the awesome power of sarcasm and the pure ‘screw it’ point I’ve reached.

I’m done with the headless chicken routine. I’ve had more than enough of it through our days at the farm and always arguing about what to do about things that are so simple a lemur could figure out what to do faster — and with less hassle — than this group.

It’s like being around a bunch of recalcitrant teenagers with selective hearing issues.

“We can’t just sit here.” Randall spoke up, not panicking but anxious.

_ ‘Oh for  _ ** _Christs sake_ ** _ .’  _ I ripped my goggles off the forest floor and pulled them over my head like a baseball cap. ‘ _ Do I have to do  _ everything  _ myself?’ _

A menacing sound came off my thighs (at least to my ears) as I pulled my knives with both hands.

I yanked my goggles down over my eyes, the woods lighting up green in the dark and I all but stomped past, snapping, “ _ Stay here. _ ” before going out into the dark; most likely vanishing to their eyes the moment my back left the firelight.

My last f*** just picked up by a flying blue box and zipped away into the wonderful wide universe.

I am  _ done _ being the only person who is thinking about our next step and making sure we survive past tomorrow, instead of acting like a scared whining brat who’s toys have been taken away.

God — sometimes I feel like I’m the only adult here. The only person who’s not afraid of the dark or their own god damn shadow, but knows better than to run with a knife when I  _ can’t see _ .

It’s a f***ing _twig._ _Leaves._ It could be the _wind_, or a branch falling because of a squirrel or a bird.

Walkers are not exactly quiet, they don’t exactly hold still or stop after  _ one _ step that came out of nowhere.

It would’ve been successive rustling if whatever the crap it is kept moving. But no. It was one rustle, for like 2 seconds and every cries wolf.

Jesus christ. I huffed a forceful breath through my nose, shaking my head. The agitation broiling my veins actually waking me up so much I feel like I could kill someone.

My iron grip on said knives is no doubt white and I don’t even care to keep my step quiet as I trudged through the forest. Wanting to grumble like a grouchy old man.

I ground my teeth in silence. The glower of pure contempt on my face feels permanent and even as my jaw popped, stretching with a yawn, I’m far too alert for any sane persons liking.

I am  _ tired  _ of being the only person using their head. I am  _ tired _ of being a babysitter and breaking up petty fights.

I am  _ tired _ of calming the spooked horse.

My boots came to a stop as I looked around, right about where this ‘walker’ should be and my jaw offset, tongue poking into my molars as I stared down exactly what Daryl suggested it was.

I raised my arm quietly and the knife flung from my grip with the precision of an experienced baseball pitcher.

The sound of it sinking into flesh was barely noticeable, even to me standing less than 15 feet from it.

I turned, looking around, surveying the woods before creeping closer to dinner.

I crouched, reaching for my knife where it protrudes from the side of the large rodent; intending to pull it out and carry it back but I stopped just before touching it.

I don’t know if I should touch it with my bare hands. It could be carrying something.

‘ _ We’re all infected _ ’

My face went slack, wanting to roll my eyes so hard they could grind rocks into powder.

I’m probably carrying something much worse than this furry thing.

I planted my hand into the course fur and pulled my knife out with one swift tug, wiping the blood off on the fur and sheathing the blade before grabbing the back feet with my now free hand.

I braced my other hand on my knee and took a breath, knowing that standing back up is gonna hurt like a monster but I did it anyway, with minimal grunting, though it was slow and my joints cracked like my bones are breaking.

Jesus I need to steady my machete. I’m gonna hurt somebody without meaning to at this rate.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, watching the smoke-like fog dissipates quickly as it misted in my green field of vision; repeating it three or four times, even closing my eyes at one point until my shoulders and fists loosened.

Sometimes I just need to step away. Breathe.

I looked around for any even  _ remote _ sign that this thing isn’t the only thing out here but like I thought, we’re too far into the middle of nowhere and surrounded by natural warning systems for there to be any such thing.

The only thing lurking in the dark out here that we should be worried about, is me.

Even after months of being around everyone, I’m still not very good at being around people for long periods of time. Even Daryl starts to get on my nerves on occasion. But that’s usually what tips me off to needing some time to myself.

I took a final cold deep breath, letting it chill me out (literally) before heading back, with the aim to keep a lid on my temper even if my patience runs out. Which could happen with just  _ one  _ remark right now.

Good thing Shane isn’t here anymore, or he’d no doubt be the person I break in half.

I went around the back side of the henge so I can finish a near complete check of our surroundings, that and so I can have just a few seconds longer to myself.

My eyes wandered up to T-Dog on the wall as I got close and he nodded at me (me returning the gesture), and squinted at my hand where I’ve got our monochrome furred meal.

Look at me providing and not panicking, and doing something about our situation while everyone else is losing their go-ram minds. And not losing my marbles while I’m at the end of my rope.


	110. Chapter 110

As I came back into the light, Rick stared me down with a clenched jaw, and it didn’t phase me in the slightest.

“Last thing we need is for everybody to be runnin’ off in the dark.” Rick avoided looking at me even though he’s clenching his teeth.

Mmm, subtle, Officer. That totally wasn’t directed at me at all.

Hershel whisper-grunted in the same type of voice Rick used earlier but with more… parental authority. “Don’t Panic.”

Big yellow letters on a black book floating in space flashed through my mind and I can’t help almost smiling.

My abs tightened with the slight charge of an impending chuckle, however it isn’t amusing enough to actually bring it out of me.

Though I am glad the pain from the tender bruises doesn’t feel so sharp anymore.

That could be a very bad sign, but I can’t bring myself to care; Nor do I intend to even attempt to. Wasting what little energy I have left on something so pointless just seems like madness.

Daryl and Glenn noticed my return almost immediately, along with Randall, and I held out the kill so Daryl — our expert hunter — can make it into something edible.

Hopefully like, right now. I’m famished.

“There see. Nothin’ but a possum.” Daryl held it up where he could look at it in the light. It’s a fairly decent size. It should be enough to fill most of us enough to get some sleep.

We can find more in the morning.

“I’m not —” Maggie took a breath, collecting herself to steady her voice. “I’m not sittin’ here, and waitin’ for another herd to blow through.”

What else do you suppose we do? Fly away? Swing from the trees like Tarzan? Swim?

Oh I know, we’ll find bikes or scooters just sitting on the road for us. Rollerblades and skateboards should get us places better than cars. Wagons to carry our shit and all this baggage we seem to keep hauling around wherever we go.

Actually… that’s not a  _ totally  _ horrible idea. If we didn’t have cars, it’d be better than walking at least.

“We need to move,  _ now _ .” Maggie spoke firmly but with a shaky edge to her voice. She’s terrified and trying not to show it. That 12 gauge in her arms is probably the only thing keeping ‘er from losing it.

“ _ No one is going anywhere. _ ” Rick’s voice dropped a near threatening two octaves.

Is that a fact?

Nevermind, what I want to know is, how do you suggest we ‘move’, Maggie? Hm?

Stumble around in the dark forest holding hands so we can at least be together while we all get lost?

Or perhaps walking along the road in the dead of a pitch-black, night while the temperature continues to drop to intolerable levels?

We’ve got  _ one _ person — myself — who can see the endless miles of road we’d be headed down, or you know, anything that comes stumbling out of the trees trying to  _ eat us _ . Be it a walker, wild dogs, or god forbid anything else.

_ Not to mention,  _ every last person here is running on fumes or less. Half of us are sporting some shiny injuries that hinder movement — also including myself.

And just for the heck of it, why don’t we take into account the fact that most — if not all of us,  _ including yourself, _ are grieving the losses of those we’ve lost in the last 24 hours + the place that’s made us feel safe enough to sleep.

Let’s say by some miracle we manage to just take a cozy little  _ freezing _ night stroll down the road without getting attacked or lost.

How long do you guess our whole 8 bottles of water will last the dozen or so of us on foot?

How many miles do you think we’ll have to walk to find gas or other vehicles — working vehicles at that — to replace the ones we walked away from? Do you think we’ll find food, water, shelter, places to rest, and warmth along the way?

How long do you think it’ll be before our younger + more frail members like Carl, Beth, Randall, and Hershel succumb to the temperature and get sick or worse frostbite? How long before exhaustion takes them? How long would it be after that before they get sick beyond our ability to cope and we have no way to help them? Before they’d need a functioning hospital & modern meds to have any hope of survival?

Do any of us even know where we are? How far the next town is?  _ Where _ the next ‘safe’ place is?

What happens if we get pushed off the road? How will we know if we’re even headed in the right direction? My dinky little compass? The sun?

What happens when we run straight into something we can’t get ourselves out of? What then, huh?

Still feel like running off in the dark?

“Do something.” Carol whisper shouted at Rick, like a pushy housewife.

“I am doing something!” Rick snapped back. “I’m keeping this group together.  _ Alive. _ ” Rick used his python, pointed at the ground to emphasize his point. He has a habit of using that thing like a 6th finger.

“I’ve been doing that all along, no matter what.  _ I didn’t ask for this _ .” He bared his teeth at the rest of us.

“I killed my best friend for you people for Christ sake!”

My eyelids retreated into my head, my jaw muscles deciding to take a sabbatical.

I knew he was dead but… Rick _killed _him…?


	111. Chapter 111

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...He killed his best friend...

“You saw what he was like. How he pushed me.” I watched Rick moving around, still looking at & facing everyone but he can’t seem to keep his feet still. “How he compromised us. How he threatened us.”

Someone he’s known since he was a kid, and he — he had to  _ kill  _ him. Because of me and the kid.

God, Rick… what is that gonna do to him?

My eyes moved over to Randall and he looks as shell-shocked as the rest of us.

Carl burst into tears and I looked over just as his cries were lost in the muffling of his dad’s jacket and Lori’s chest as his mother wrapped her arms around him.

Call me crazy, but this doesn't look like news to Lori. Did she  _ know _ ? Since when?

“He staged the whole Randall thing.” Rick looked at Lori and I can’t help but notice how she isn’t looking at him. “Lead me out to put a bullet in my back.” It’s almost like he’s saying it for the second time. “He gave me  _ no choice! _ ”

“He was my friend, but he came after  _ me _ .”

“My hands are clean.” As a whistle, I’m sure.

Lori shushed Carl, who’s full on sobbing into her neck now.

The rest of the group is silent. Everyone looking at Rick but not like he’s a monster.

It seems I’m not the only one who isn’t gonna shed tears over Shane’s grave.

We all knew he was dangerous and explosive. It wasn’t exactly a secret.

All of us had our problems with Shane, to different extremes.

I watched Rick carefully as he paced back and forth.

“Maybe you people  _ are  _ better off without me.”

What?

“Go ahead” Rick motioned at the entrance way behind him. “I say there’s a place for us but maybe — maybe that’s just another pipe dream.”

“Maybe — maybe I’m  _ foolin’ myself  _ again.” he spit. “Why — why don’t — why don’t you go and find out yourself.” he all but bared his teeth at us in a snarl.

“ _ Send me a postcard. _ ” Sure. Is by carrier pigeon ok?

“ _ Go on _ , there’s the door.” he prompted like some asshole gettin’ in your face saying, ‘hit me’.

“You can do better? Let’s see how far you get.” he motioned again with his python.

‘ _ Why do I feel like I’m in some old western showdown? _ ’

He knows no one’s going anywhere. They’re too scared. And everyone  _ not _ too scared, is too smart, too tired, or too noble to go awol. Even though I’m  _ positive _ Daryl & I aren’t the only ones who’ve considered taking off in recent weeks.

What exactly are you trying to accomplish here, Grimes?

“No takers?  _ Fine _ . But get one thing straight,” his voice turned serious, face relaxing down into the set of his jaw, staring the group down like someone he’s about to take a swing at them.

“You’re stayin’, this isn’t a democracy anymore.” Rick shook his head.

No one said a word.

And Rick walked away, out into the dark. Where to? Who knows.

I don’t like the idea of someone else dictating what I do but I’m too exhausted to argue right now.

That’s a later me’s problem. Or maybe it isn’t a problem at all.

You know… I’ve been thinking about it for awhile — in not so few words as Rick put it but maybe this is exactly what we need.

Some clear cut lines about who’s calling the shots. No more arguing for days on end about the simplest little things.

Maybe It  _ would _ be a good idea to just wait and see. Especially since tension is at an all time high right this moment.

If another argument started I think… I have a bad feeling someone would wind up with a gunshot, or a knife to a very painful but non-vital (and more importantly  _ healable _ ) part of their body.

I’m so tired of the headless chicken thing.

Rick’s losing his mind, Hershel’s reasoning is failing, Hell even Daryl & Glenn look at their wits end with all this bullshit. I certainly am.

And I’m about two sentences from telling everyone to either lay down and go to sleep, or I’ll do it for them.

Normally I wouldn’t be thrilled by an approach like this, but right now, I am in-love with the idea of something more militant-unit.

There’s a reason units operate — operated, the way they did. There’s a reason there was a chain of command that was largely respected; aside from the odd stray soldier here and there or a few moments where things are seen differently, etc.

I don’t know how it’ll hold up in the long run or how everyone will adjust to it, but we can’t afford all this ‘I think this, I think that’ anymore.

We need a solid structure and  _ one _ voice to listen to for awhile.

* * *

**Daryl’s POV**

Well that was dramatic.

I glanced at Eve, not expectin’ a happy look — I’m surprised she hasn’t gone after ‘im already — but as I looked, I stopped.

She ain’t even lookin’.

Her face is blank. Half-lidded eyes almost glowing starin’ at the fire. Pale; dark circles around her eyes that are so deep I can almost see ‘er eye socket.

God she looks tired.

A couple hours sleep was not enough for ‘er. She needs to rest.

She’s got a bad habit of pushin’ ‘erself too far.

She ain’t even breathing ok. It’s shallow. Barely moving. Her hands resting on her lap but it’s curled and facing upwards like she wants to put it around her stomach.

Her shoulders are slumped like she could just sag forward any minute.

I sat next to her without even thinking, nudging her shoulder with mine. She didn’t look, just leaned against me.

I watched her for a second, the light shifting over her cheeks. Dirt and sweat clinging around the edges. Still, I’ve seen ‘er look worse.

My stomach tightened thinking back to the moment it fell outta my ass when she dropped outta that tree like a damn cannonball. When I pulled her outta that hole. The countless close calls she’s had with walkers.

Jesus, the only reason she’s still alive is thanks to those reflexes. And she’s fast.

But right now. I wish she’d just slow up and lay down. Go to sleep, stop thinkin’.

Let someone else take care of things for awhile.

That blank look reminds me of how she used to be. When we first met.

The way she looked at things was so emotionless. Not concerned, not angry, not determined, not… optimistic.

It was nothing like the way she looks now.

I’m not used to it anymore. Makes me feel weird. It looks outta place. Wrong.

That’s not how she’s supposed to look.

She’s supposed to have that — that  _ chill _ subtle curiosity. Not this blank, tired, just goin’ on cause she’s gotta thing.

I looked down at the possum in front a me, and shifted a little to get my knife, so I can start skinnin’ it.

If she ain’t goin’ to sleep already, I’m at least gon’ make ‘er eat somethin’.

I looked up, feeling eyes on me and caught Glenn’s gaze for a moment. He looked at Eve then back at me and raised his eyebrows a little.

I glanced at Eve before barely shaking my head, no. She ain’t ok.


	112. Chapter 112

**Eve’s POV**

Oh Merlin’s gourd. Everything aches.

I stared at the slow blueing sky above me before sitting up; well, trying to. Sluggish and bleary — exhausted — I planted my elbows in the leaves and yawned as I pushed myself up, slow and painful.

_ ‘What time is it? _’

I turned to take a peek at Dale’s watch but stopped before my eyes could fall on the timepiece around my wrist.

My opposite hand inched towards my wrist and the cold surface almost made me flinch as I slowly covered it; holding it where it is.

‘_ ...I don’t need to know _.’

It’s butttcrack early. That’s what time it is.

I wound the watch without looking at it, ignoring the hands on the face and went straight to scraping the sleep gunk from my eyes.

A shiver ran up my spine at the cold contact of my icy fingers and I shimmied my jacket tighter around myself.

If only I had a sweatshirt right about now. Leather isn’t exactly the warmest thing in the world, even if it braces against the wind nicely.

I sorely got to my feet, wincing as I slow-stretched now tingling muscles.

The leaves crunched next to me as Daryl rolled onto his side and made a face. He groggily reached down and pulled a stick out from under his side.

I thought I was the only groggy riser here.

Speaking of which, why the _ shit-biscuit _am I awake before the sun? I’m not even supposed to be on watch next and no one woke me up for the umteenth time.

A groan brought my attention to the side and I watched Daryl come to a grumpy state of awareness instead of rolling over and going back to sleep like I honestly expected, but maybe that’s more my thing than his.

He sat up scowling at the world (at least _ that _assumption of mine is accurate). His eyes settled on me, finally noticing he isn’t the first awake but for some reason, it looks like his scowl just deepened.

What, am I not allowed to be awake? That would be a dream come true. No pun intended.

I waved — cutting the gesture short by covering my mouth from another yawn and unintentionally giving myself an eyeful of morning breath.

Oof, when was the last time I brushed my teeth?

I cringed and sighed, staring at the remains of the fire for a good long minute; still tired enough to barely notice Daryl not moving even though he’s awake.

It finally occurred to me to check my gun’s clip when I pulled my jacket tighter and the gun shifted.

I checked my holster — which I was not supposed to wear to sleep but apparently I did anyway — and the clip sliding must’ve alerted those on watch (Maggie & Rick) to my ‘booting up’ status.

“You’re awake?”

I glanced over, blinking sleepily at Maggie before going back at my clip. Completely forgetting to respond.

2 bullets left.

“Don’ think she is.” Daryl snorted quietly next to me, dragging his crossbow into his lap.

When did he sit up?

I looked at him and made a point of snapping my clip when I slid it back in and tucked it back into my waistband. It would be nice if I had a holster for this damn thing; preferably an under shoulder one, or one that won’t get in the way of my knives.

Even if I don’t use guns as often as the others — it’s kinda my last resort thing — it’d still be nice to be able to be able to quick draw and not have that worry in the back of my mind that it’s gonna fall from my waistband.

It’s a good thing I picked up that extra gun in the bar so we’re not one gun short with Randall around.

The kid’s a good shot. Color me impressed.

Lot a good it did us. No matter how many good shots we’ve got here, it still wasn’t enough against all of those bodies.

We’re practically a whole team of sharpshooters and not even we could put even a dent into that herd.

The existence of that herd itself is worrying. If there’s one, it’s next to impossible there won’t be more. How many of them could be out there? How big can they get?

Where could all those bodies have come from?

I picked up a stick from the fire pit and raised it, specifically so Rick could see, before heading out of the stone enclosure.

“Don’t go far” he nodded. He’s still off but I don’t expect him to be okay any time soon.

He’ll wrestle with it for awhile, but eventually… I believe he’ll come back. He won’t ever be the same, no one ever is. But he won’t carry it like poison, slowly eating him from the inside out. Fraying him at the edges until there’s nothing left.

I went just outside the henge for a nice lookin’ pile of sticks, careful not to get out of sight.

Don’t think I didn’t notice Daryl move to the edge of the stones as soon as I started out.

It’s hard to ignore his eyes on me right now.

I glanced around before taking longer than I’d like to crouch and pick up a decent little pile. Grazing my fingers across the grass while I’m at it.

The grass is too damp for kindling, even though it’s dead or dying. I suppose I could use leaves. They’re crispy enough they might light well; some of them at least.

I rubbed my eyes with the back of my wrist, taking a sleepy deep breath through my nose. I’m still tired but it’s so cold out here there’s no way I’d ever be able to go back to sleep without starting that fire again.

I’m worried.

About the trauma Rick’s going through. Having to kill his best friend, who tried to murder him in cold blood. There’s no way that isn’t gonna mess his head up.

They were fighting long before that but even if he doesn’t want to admit it, she can see it on his face. The betrayal, the exhaustion. The pain.

It’s hard enough when someone you trust betrays you without bringing death and murder into it.

Loss is one of the hardest things to cope with and everybody copes differently but no matter who you are or what your situation with them might have been, you can’t escape the toll it’ll bring.

He won’t ever be the same after this.

And last night…

I blew a sigh out of my mouth, straightening my back to look at my surroundings, and to take an observing glance at Rick.

I need to talk to him.

God why do I need to talk again?

One more. Come on Evelyn, one more. 

One more talk and then I can be done for awhile. Let everyone else sort out their own petty squabbles.


	113. Chapter 113

After collecting everything needed for restarting the fire, I straightened to make my way back to the henge and turned to find Daryl walking towards me.

“Hey.”

I quirked my eyebrow but nodded back. ‘ _ Why’d he come out? It’s not like I need help getting firewood. I’m already finished. _ ’

The leaves crunched under his boots like fistfuls of corn kernels thrown against a metal sheet, little snaps of twigs and other forest-floor debris here and there until he came to a stop, facing me more directly than usual. “I wanna talk to ya for a sec.”

Uh oh. Why do I feel like I’m about to be scolded?

Everything I’ve done in the last 48 hours started running through a fine tooth comb in my mind.

What could I have possibly done to warrant a ‘talk’?

“Don’t wander off no more.” Daryl glanced around, checking our surroundings the same way I do.

...Ok, that’s not what I expected.

I stared at him in question. Mostly confused about where this is coming from all of a sudden. All I did was come outside to grab fire stuff. The camp is literally like a stone’s throw from us.

“I mean it.” he shifted, not looking at me and I honestly can’t tell if it’s because he’s nervous, embarrassed, or if this really just isn’t as serious a conversation as I thought — as he’s making it sound.

My eyes wandered over his face. The dirt and sweat clinging to his skin in the same manner as most of us at this point, but a little thicker because he’s got something against water. Sometimes I think he actually does it to protect his skin from bugs and sunburn and the like. But other times…

Then again, this is Daryl. There might be a perfectly good reason — like one of those many old hunter’s tricks that he just seems to dispense when needed — or there might be no reason at all and he just didn’t think about it. Which I find hard to believe because this crap is itchy after a while.

On cue my cheek started itching but my hands are full so I’ll have to settle for rubbing it against my shoulder and trying to catch my jacket zipper at a good angle.

“I can’t keep lookin’ for ya all the time, going after ya. It’s better if ya just stay where I can see ya.”

_ ‘Hmph, no worries. I’m not goin’ anywhere by myself anymore. _ ’ My hand traveled from where it’s tucked up under my bundle of stuff, just to hover over my ribs. Even the idea of touching it is making my hand shake. The way it does with anticipated pain.

I nodded and watched him give a firm one in return, before motioning at me to hand over the sticks & kindling.

I pulled them back into me like I’m protecting my child and he deadpanned at me.

Seconds ticked by as the two of us had a stare off until Daryl raised an eyebrow and snapped his fingers.

I sighed, making absolutely positive he heard it.

‘ _ Fine. _ ’

I handed the bundle over and let him carry it as we walked back to the camp to start a fire.

I don’t know when we’re gonna get moving today, but we have some serious things to sort out before we can go anywhere, and the fact it’s cold enough to still  _ need  _ a fire when the sun is up already is a serious warning sign.

We gotta find a place to stay for the winter. Preferably more than one, and we gotta do it fast or we’re not gonna make it without casualties.

At the very least, that baby in Lori’s belly will be consumed by her body for nutrition or energy, or just plain miscarried because she doesn’t have the resources to grow a child.

And worse case scenario… it takes her with it.

Carl stirred just as the two of us reentered the henge. Randall sitting up already, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he yawned. His breath misting in front of him.

Another sign we don’t have anymore time to dilly dally.

We don’t have anymore food, barely any water, but we’ve got light again and we’ve all gotten some sleep so now it’s time to crack down and get our bases covered again.

Starting with getting those cars moving and finding the nearest house or gas station or town if we’re lucky and getting as much of our supplies back as we can.

I stood next to Daryl as he crouched beside the fire pit, not really wanting to go through the effort of having to stand back up again at the moment.

I stepped around him, lightly letting my finger graze the backside of his shoulder so he knows I’m walking right behind him. It would suck if he leaned back right now cause I’m 90% sure a strong breeze would push me over at the moment.

I grabbed the edges of probably the only plastic bin we’ve got, surrounded by people’s backpacks which is all we managed to grab getting out and popped the foggy white plastic open as quietly as I could.

The more sleep everyone gets right now the better, they can stave off hunger for longer, they’ll be less cranky, and honestly we won’t have to start talking about stuff yet.

I gave in to sitting on my knees, using the bin to lower myself down easier and started digging through the bucket, making a mental checklist of what we’ve got while Daryl started the fire and the temperature slowly started to get just a little warmer.

The crackles and occasional popping calmed my nerves; filling the silence that would only have me on alert right now. Even though we’ve got people on watch, I would be compelled to listen if there wasn’t some kind of white noise.

I pride myself on being able to be calm and think clearly but I’m gonna be honest, ...we’re in serious trouble.

No food, barely any water — only two  _ containers _ for it either, nothing to boil it in except a single metal cup. A box of matches with exactly 4 matches. A 3rd of a bottle of aspirin (thank god), minus two pills as I handed one to Randall and popped the other in my mouth; seeing as we’re the only two injured that I’m aware of.

Some jackets, one sleeping bag — which Lori, Carol, and Carl are laying on right now as an improvised bed.

An emergency blanket — a  _ torn _ emergency blanket. A shoelace(???), 3 small flashlights, one pair of night vision goggles, no real warm clothes other than the ones on our backs. And one blanket; which is currently laying over Hershel. Thankfully Carl seems to be piled under jackets and wrapped in his mother’s arms, so he’s fine and the fire should be warming everyone up now, seeing as how everyone is within reach.

“Mornin’” I turned to look at Randall as he shuffled over next to me. “What are you doin?”

Gardening.

What does it look like I’m doing?

I turned my eyes back to the bucket, and Daryl’s shoulder bumped the back side of mine as he turned to look at what I’m doing.

“She’s seein’ what we gotta work with.”

Actually, never mind what I’m doing. What are  _ you  _ doing? Sharpening your knife — are you gonna go hunting? Please tell me we’re gonna go bag something to roast.

Daryl must’ve caught my questioning eyes cause he sighed. “No chance I can make ya stay ‘ere, is there?”

I quickly shook my head and grinned at his exasperated groan before he sighed and stood up, offering me a hand.

I clapped mine with his and let him help me more than usual. Use those biceps Dixon, they can’t just be for show.

“Where you guys goin?” I looked back at Randall who looks and sounds just a little panicky.

“Huntin’. And no, you ain’t comin’ with us.” Daryl fixed his crossbow in his hands. “Bad enough I gotta drag her ‘round with me out there.”

Hey, at least I can walk.

“I wasn’t gonna.” Randall muttered and shrunk a little when Daryl looked at him.

I couldn’t help it. I snorted and they both looked at me while me and my ninjaness pretended it wasn’t me.

I looked up at the sky, using my hand to shield from the rising sun. I don’t need to worry about how much light we’ve got this early in the morning but the temperature might be another deal. My fingers are already pretty cold and we haven’t even left yet.

At the bottom of my vision I saw Daryl roll his eyes and jerk his head. “Come on, Sunshine.”

“Ey,” Daryl stopped, turning back and pointed at the bottles. “Fill those up over there while we’re gone.” He flicked his hand towards the stream we used to clean up yesterday before starting out again.

I pulled my knives as we walked out of the henge and Daryl barely slowed his pace as he looked up at Rick on the wall, who’s already looking down on us like a parent catching their kids sneaking out.

“We’re goin’ ta find some food. Should be back in an hour or so.” Daryl cut him off before he could even open his mouth, prepping his crossbow at the same time.

Geez, someone must’ve slept well. He is on top of things today. Good, we’re gonna need it.

Rick nodded, glancing around. “Don’t go too far.”

“Don’ leave.” Daryl countered as he motioned to me and started heading towards the tree line on the far right side; back the way we came with the cars and opposite to the direction I slayed last night’s bedtime snack.

* * *

I like hunting with Daryl.

It’s simple.

All I have to do really, is watch his back and keep an awareness of our surroundings so he doesn’t have to while he tracks.

Today though, it’s not as easy as it used to be.

The ground is crisp and crunchy with leaves and fallen twigs. It’s freezing and our breath creates a whole lot of extra movement around us, making us even easier to see through the sheer lack of living foliage to help hide us.

The trees are still dense though, dense enough that we could still get lost if we’re not careful.

Which is why I’m making little marks as we go to follow back, like Hansel and Gretel, just in case.

A groove in a tree here, a little stack of stones there. A cleared pile of leaves and a clear footprint in the direction we’re going so we just have to follow the heel back, and if anyone else — however unlikely — should happen upon the print, it’ll lead them in the opposite direction of camp. Granted it’ll bring them straight towards us but better us than the rest of the group.

We haven’t caught much. Just a couple of squirrels. But to feed the whole group, we’re gonna need a lot more than just a couple. We’ve got what, over a dozen mouths to feed now?

It’d be awesome if we could find a deer, but somehow I doubt we’ll be so lucky. Even a couple raccoons or something would be better than just some measly squirrels.

And Daryl knows it too.

Our hour is almost up but we can’t go back with just this. This will  _ barely _ feed 3 or 4 people.

I’ve seen a couple of wild berries here and there but without knowing for certain if they’re poisonous or not, we can’t risk it. I would if we were starving but we’re not there yet. And I’m not poisoning Carl, or Beth, or Lori, or Hershel, or Glenn, or  _ anyone _ if I can at all help it.

“Don’t worry. We’ll find enough.”

I looked at Daryl, not even aware he’d been looking at me, but he’s already returned to the tracks we’ve been following for a few minutes now.

“It ain’t gonna be no full course meal, but it’ll be better than nothin’.” He muttered in a low tone, trying to keep our presence as undetectable as possible.

I really shouldn’t be surprised by his ability to detect my thoughts like they’re in comic book bubbles above my head but it still gets me every time.


	114. Chapter 114

The sleek black bolt pierced the birds eye and it dropped like a rock from the branch it had perched on above us.

I stuck my hands out without even thinking, and the bird literally fell right into them. Almost impaling itself on my dagger.

The bolt’s tail almost whacked me in the side of the face but at least I caught it.

I smiled at Daryl, unable to hide the elation coursing through me at the idea of not having to eat squirrel — or  _ just  _ squirrel at the very least.

“6, 7... That makes 6 squirrels and 3 birds. That should be good enough for now. We better head back ‘fore the other have a panic attack.” Daryl held out the other birds in his hand as I pulled his bolt out of this one’s eye-socket with a gross  _ ‘slick _ ’ and traded him.

He almost grabbed my hand instead of the bolt which brought the red on my fingers to my attention.

Daryl scoffed and I looked up at him. “What’s that face for? Not like you never had blood on yer hands before.”

I stuck my tongue out at him and he almost snorted, rolling his eyes. “Come on” 

I put both birds feet into my left hand so they’ll be easier to carry and fell into — crunchy — step beside Daryl. 

It took us about 20 minutes of comfortable silence and bumping each other’s shoulders every now and then until we made it back out of the trees and trudged to the henge to get this stuff cleaned up and ready to make into something edible.

Just in time too, I’m about ready to eat one of these things raw.

Yes, even the  _ squirrel. _

I shivered just at the thought of this actually sounding like a good,  _ appetizing  _ idea.

Daryl looked at me. “You cold or somethin?”

I dismissed it with a head shake and stowed my knife now that we’re back at camp.

Glenn was sitting up when we walked back through the entryway, looking like he didn’t  _ just _ wake up, but has probably only been awake for 10 minutes, tops.

It looks like everyone’s awake too.

Good. That means he and I can make a run for some gas. Unlike everyone else here, we’ve done duo runs just the two of us so many times it should be a cake walk for us to go get something to get our asses out of here.

We gotta find somewhere to hole up fast. We can’t stay out here another night.

I whistled at Glenn and as soon as he looked at me, I tapped my knives; our signal for ‘grab your gear we’re heading out’. I haven’t used this signal in a long time. Not since the quarry.

His eyebrows furrowed at me. “Now? Where? What for?”

“Gas and scout.” I answered simply.

“ _ Hell nah. _ ” I turned, almost flinching at the sudden  _ growl _ from Daryl.

“Not with those bruises you aren’t.” Glenn motioned at my gut and I glanced as he did.

Since when did these two start teaming up?

Daryl motioned at Glenn and Ace stood up, grabbing his gear as Daryl turned back to me. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere, Sunshine.”

“We’ll take ma brother’s bike, but yer sittin’ yer ass down.” He pointed at the spot next to Carl on the open sleeping bag, which is now next to the fire like a little sitting area.

Before I could argue, they were heading out and everyone else was giving me pointed looks to do as the man said. A few look like they’re gonna whoop my ass if I don’t but I just stood there, dumbfounded and blinking as  _ both _ of my partners are walking away without me.

I feel cheated. Even a little left out.

Oh that’s a weird feeling. Haven’t felt like that in awhile.

“Eve, could you help Randall boil the water?” Lori asked and I looked towards the kid by the fire.

Yeah… sure.

I heard the engine and watched Daryl & Glenn slowly take off along the road, Rick walking back. I didn’t even see him go over there with them.

* * *

I sat on top of the wall with the rifle in my hands, watching the road more than the treeline. My leg bouncing like I’m really trying not to scratch an itch.

It’s almost noon now. They should’ve been back an hour ago.

I glanced over to the other wall, where T-Dog’s standing. Maggie’s organizing our supplies down there; she’s like the 3rd person aside from me to do that now.

Carol and Lori are using what Daryl & I caught this morning to make at least  _ something _ for everyone.

Hershel suggested stew. There’ll be enough for everyone and it’ll fill our stomachs, even though there’s not much to work with. It won’t be the tastiest thing ever, bland as water chestnuts but hey, at least it’s better than raw squirrel.

Hershel’s been talking to Rick quietly outside the henge for about 10 minutes now. Not far from where Beth & Randall are picking up more firewood.

You know, that kid continues to surprise me. Turns out, he knows a thing or two about a few edible plants thanks to some high school project he did a few years ago, and he found some a little while ago, while they’ve been collecting.

By some I mean like less than a handful but that means the stew won’t be  _ as _ tasteless as it was going to be. And hopefully these little leaves have some kind herbal medicine type of mojo but I think that might be asking a little much. Last I checked, mother nature wasn’t in that forgiving of a mood. In fact, I’d say she’s rather pissed at us at the moment, so we’ll be lucky if Randall’s not mistaken and they’re not poisonous.

Damn, I get a lot edgier when I’m tired and in pain.

How long is it gonna take for these damn bruises to heal?

Normal bruises take about 5 days but something tells me I’m gonna be in for a lot longer.

I perked up as I heard the slightest rumble and my eyes fixed on the gray dusty road.

Seconds ticked by like years until I saw the beautiful glimmer of sunlight off steel and I smiled.

I pursed my lips and with a short whistle and pointed finger, I alerted the others that the boys are back.

I climbed down off the wall, losing my strength halfway down after lowering myself but good thing my legs aren’t beat up or they wouldn’t have been able to absorb the shock.

Maggie and Rick came with me as I hiked up to the road edge, watching Daryl put down the kickstand for his motorcycle while Glenn climbed off with a gas can.

They’ve definitely got some new stains and that blood splatter is fresh but they don’t look hurt.

I gave them both a once over and Daryl waved me off. “We found a place to hole up for tonight.”

“How far?” Rick asked.

“Not far. Maybe 3 miles.” Glenn answered, wiping his nose on the back of his wrist before walking with Maggie to the other cars.

“Oh, and these.” Daryl pulled a couple cans out of his backpack.

Good, we could always use food. And when it’s gone, the cans themselves will be useful as well.


	115. Chapter 115

I swung my leg off the bike, bracing my hands on Daryl’s shoulders a little heavier than usual to keep my balance — less pressure on the ribs — as I got off the motorcycle.

The others got out of the cars behind us as I took out my knives, doing a quick spin check of our surroundings. I’d really like to avoid being snuck up on at all costs. Especially since we just made a whole lot of noise pulling up to this book store — or what used to be a bookstore.

This little open-air shopping mall is deserted like everywhere else. There’s maybe 9 shops here, none any bigger than a small house except for this book store on the corner, and it’s basically just two shops stacked on top of each other to create two floors.

But, it’s tall enough that we might get a good vantage point from that top level. The windows are big and if we’re lucky, there’ll be roof access.

The outside of the caramel brown modern-looking building makes it stand out against the other rundown off-white shops in this little strip. Amazing what a difference a simple color scheme can do to something.

There’s a dollar tree next door to it, that might have some odds & ends we could use without having to go find stores they’d be at.

Oh  _ yesssss _ I almost fist pumped. There’s a hardware store. I doubt it’ll have anything fancy but there’ll be simple tools at least. Maybe bolt & wire cutters — things we could use should we encounter chains or fence that we need to get through. I can think of at least 3 times making runs into the city — in Atlanta — where those would’ve come in handy.

I made a mental note to check these stores out before dark but we need to clear this shop and get settled first.

“Alright,” Rick stood at the front of the group who gathered almost in a line on my right as Daryl stood to my left.

“T-Dog, Randall, you’re on watch. Keep your eyes peeled and no gunfire unless you  _ have _ to. We don’t have ammo to waste and we don’t wanna draw unnecessary attention to ourselves.”

“Daryl, Eve, Glenn, Maggie. You guys come with me, we’ll clear out the store. The rest of you, stay here and keep an eye out. Be ready to move in case this goes south.”

Rick turned and motioned at us, taking his python into both hands as the 4 of us followed towards the doors.

“Stay behind me.”

“Stay behind me.”

Maggie and I both looked at Glenn and Daryl — who looked at each other like they’d grown a second head.

I couldn’t help it. I snorted.

They both looked at me and I covered my mouth, “concealing” the grin that’s trying very hard not to grow.

Maggie tried biting her lips to conceal hers but let’s face it, we both failed. Miserably.

Rick looked at us, thankfully letting us have that little moment before he gave us a stern look and we all flanked him. Daryl and me on the left side of the door, the other 3 on the right. All of us standing in a sort of half crouch that seems to aid sneaking for whatever reason.

Don’t ask me how it works, I just know that it does; even if only as a placebo effect.

Daryl got his crossbow ready and I spun my knives around, ready.

Daryl turned slightly and grumbled to me, “Play it safe.  _ I mean it _ .” as Rick grabbed the handle.

I gave a low hum in response, knowing he’s not looking at me at a good enough angle to see a nod and my hands are ocupado so no thumbs up’s either.

Rick looked at us and we both nodded before he quietly pulled it open, just enough to allow us inside.

I slipped in right after Daryl, looking straight ahead of myself to his right while he looked to the left.

The ceiling is high, several rows of dark bookshelves about 6 feet in front of the door. A dirty checkout counter on my right, right as we came in.

It’s carpeted so we don’t have to worry about boots squeaking, and there isn’t any blood on it that I can see. That’s a good sign.

I don’t like how many rows of shelves there are though. It’s just enough — and the space is just big enough — to make me a little nervous about what could be hiding in here.

I glanced at Daryl just as he looked at me and nodded. He moved left, Rick following him, and I went right, Glenn & Maggie following me.

Glenn moved up beside me, looking down the rows one by one, with Maggie watching behind us and keeping an eye on Rick & Daryl who are doing the same thing in the other direction, while I snuck around the spacious counter and carefully leaned around it.

All that greeted me was a worn, uncomfortable looking grey desk chair, several papers scattered about and a couple stacks of books under the counter, but I almost gagged at the smell coming from  _ something _ over here.

It smells like something died over here, but not like rotting flesh — yeah, I know what that smells like by now, and isn’t  _ that _ just a little disturbing.

My face contorted as I tried not to breathe while I looked around. Right up until I found a rotting half eaten sandwich in the metal garbage can, green, grey, mushy and  _ crawling _ with so many bugs I can’t even name all of them. 

I gagged, and flinched at how it pulled the muscles around my bruised diaphragm before scurrying back out from behind the counter; wanting to get as far away from that nastiness as possible. Lest it hurt me more than it already has.

As I went back though, I noticed a half empty plastic water bottle beside a rotting apple core on the shelf just under the counter. Someone must’ve been having lunch when all this happened. 

Ew, I almost shivered. Almost  _ half a year _ old lunch. I grabbed the water bottle, stuffing it into the pocket on the side of my backpack — whoever came up with the idea for a water bottle pocket on the outside of the bag was a genius — before heading back over to Maggie and Glenn who have reached the end of the shelves.

I gave a whistle, barely louder than just breathing and Glenn gave me a thumbs up. I nodded and looked down to where Rick and Daryl are, making eye contact with Daryl before he made a small gesture to the shelves. I nodded, understanding and went down one of the rows, quick & quiet and peaked out the back of them.

Ok, this place is bigger than it looked. There’s a little area on the left for kids to play and read books — your typical story time zone — and a door to the bathroom just on the other side of the little multi-colored, animal covered, knee high fence, then what looks like some sort of office. And to the right, where Glenn & Maggie are, there’s another door, and almost directly in front of me — about 12 feet — is the curved dark wood & tan cement railed staircase that heads up to the second floor, where I can see just a couple more rows of shelves and what looks like an empty space farther to the right up there.

I stood on my tip toes, stretching my neck a little to try and see more of it but when has that ever really worked? We still try though.

I glanced at Glenn & Maggie and pointed to that room, which they’re already standing by, looking like they’re wondering if they should open it or not, before looking down at Rick & Daryl.

Daryl stood inside the bathroom and gave me a short nod when he caught my gaze. Clear.

He and Rick poised to go into the office next and I watched Glenn and Maggie go into the other room, so I — carefully — started up the stairs. Not to come up here by myself and clear it, but just to get a better look of the whole store, and maybe see  _ a little _ more of the upper floor.

I’m not stupid enough to try and clear this by myself — not in my condition anyway. No matter how fast or quiet I may be.

It only took a minute or so before Daryl was at the bottom of the stairs and almost scared the crap outta me. I thought he was a walker for half a second there.

I jerked my head a little and stepped to the wall so he could go around me and take point.

Normally in close quarters like this, I should be taking point, but I can’t afford to get hit or grabbed right now even the slightest. And he told me to play it safe, so that’s exactly what I’m doing. Lucky him. I don’t often do what I’m told.

I followed him up the remaining steps as they curved around so we were facing back towards the front of the building. The painted cement railing next to us making it easier to see the whole floor.

The entire right side is open and just full of sitting areas; couches, chairs, even brightly colored bean bags, and the entire left side is just one giant book shelf that runs along the wall with 4 rows of smaller shelves at the very edges and a set of study tables in the center. All in all, I was wrong. We can see the entire room from right here.

Immediately on my right is another door with a uni-sex bathroom sign and judging by the dimensions I’d say it’s a single stall bathroom.

I turned the handle experimentally and glanced at Daryl to see him ready with his crossbow, before giving it a fast tug.

He stepped in almost the second the door was out of the way. Fast and tense but he relaxed, lowering his crossbow. Empty. 

Wow, that’s unusual. I thought there would’ve been at least  _ one _ walker in here but I guess a bookstore isn’t a very popular place to hole up  _ or _ raid or anything really.

That’s good. I’ll remember that in the future. Add it to my list of ‘Likely safe places’. The one I’ve just started as of now.

I relaxed myself, and looked around the room before walking towards the large windows at the end. It’s been awhile since I’ve been in a bookstore, sadly.

I looked outside and gave Hershel and Lori a thumbs up as they saw me. Just before Glenn and Maggie joined them back outside.

“Let’s head back.”

I turned, seeing Rick on the stares near Daryl and headed back over as they started down; Daryl waiting until I caught up to actually go back down and head for the doors.

As soon as we pushed the glass door open, we were greeted with Rick telling the others. “We’ll set up camp on the second floor.”


	116. Chapter 116

“T-Dog, Randall, siphon all the gas you can from these cars.” Rick motioned at the all of 3 commuter cars in the tiny parking lot.

Then he turned to us by the door. “Glenn, Daryl, Eve, Maggie, you three clear that store for anything we could use. Food, and weapons take priority.”

The four of us nodded — almost in sync — Glenn giving a muted “Got it” before moving.

“Same as before.” Daryl glanced at the 3 of us, raising his crossbow once again.

We lined up on either side of the door again, only this time, Daryl’s grabbing the handle and Glenn & Maggie are going in first.

Thankfully the whole front wall of the store is glass — and covered in ads — so we can see directly inside without much obstruction.

However, as nice as that is, I’m already counting 3 walkers and a massive smear of blood on the ground.

Seems like this shopping center isn’t — or wasn’t — as deserted as we thought.

Glenn and I looked at each other simultaneously; him giving me the same look I’m giving him.

So we’ve both noticed, and he’s probably thinkin’ the same thing I am.

We’ve done this a lot more times than the rest of the group when it was just the two of us — I’d even go so far as to call ourselves experts in this arena — and we both know that if there are that many walkers inside this tiny place, and a big smear of blood on the floor but no body, that’s a good sign someone or something got trapped inside here and couldn’t get out in time.

Which means it’s likely there are more walkers inside than just the three we can see.

Daryl and Maggie must’ve picked up on our mental strategy-meeting because Daryl nudged me with his elbow just as Maggie whispered, “What is it?”

I licked my lips as Glenn glanced over his shoulder at her and back at me before he answered, “Nothing it’s just… there’s probably more than just 3 walkers in there.”

“What? How do ya know?” Maggie glanced between me & her boyfriend, as Daryl glanced at me for confirmation — which I gave with a nod — before he looked back through the door. I can see the gears in his head turning even from behind him; trying to figure out what we’re seeing that he’s not.

I set my hand on his shoulder and leaned around him, pointing and watched him follow my finger.

It wasn’t difficult to see the exact moment it clicked. He shifted, jaw tightening for a second and it’s almost like watching him shift gears from ‘figure it out’ to ‘how to get it done’.

After a minute, and Glenn muttering lowly to answer Maggie and fill her in, Daryl looked at the four of us, and looked around me to glance at the others around the parking lot.

Now it’s my turn to go ‘figure out’ mode as I copied him.

T and Randall are still by the cars, most of the others lugging things into the bookstore next door, some keeping watch, and someone actually in the back of the truck digging something out, I presume.

Rick’s talking to Hershel by the cars, having one of those private ‘advisory’ conversations that everyone seems to have with the oldest member of the group (whoever that may be).

Before, it was Dale. Now it seems that mantle’s fallen to Hershel. It’s always the village elder, heheh.

You can know a lot, but knowledge alone can’t beat real experience. Especially when it comes to life situations, as we’ve figured out. The more experienced you are, the better your chances, but combining experience is a whole other birthday cake.

“Psst” Glenn got my attention and tapped his finger on the glass. My eyebrows furrowed and I followed his finger to a little blue wire-basket of clear spiky plastic balls, sitting on an end-of-aisle shelf just across from the register counter that’s almost immediately inside the door (poor room design, might I add).

I looked back at him, not understanding before it dawned on me.

Son of a bitch.

I looked back inside, straightening up just a little so I could see better over Daryl’s shoulder.

Those are the same light-up bouncy-ball things — they look more like mines to perfectly honest — that Ace used when we got trapped in that apartment that one time. Back in Atlanta.

It was just after we’d started setting up easier routes through the city to make the runs easier (that came out wrong — and so did that).

When we’d (I’d) gotten sick of always heading into the city with an ever-changing idea of what could be waiting for us and what route would be safe enough to take to where we needed to go.

We were getting quite clever about moving about in the city if I do say so myself, before Rick showed up and herds became a thing and we decided to get the Hell outta dodge before half the city flooded out and right over our doorstep.

My tongue poked out of the corner of my mouth, and I moved around Daryl.

“What are ya doin?” Daryl almost growled at me but let’s be honest, every time he mutters something it sounds like a growl no matter what he’s saying. Another Dixon family gift.

I crouched in front of the door, stowing one of my knives so I’ve only got one in hand.

“We’ve got an idea. I’ve done it once before.” Glenn answered in a hushed tone so I didn’t have to, and I motioned at Daryl to open the door.

He sat there for a moment looking at me like I’m insane and I just motioned again, raising my eyebrows expectantly.

He huffed through his nose and I know he doesn’t like this already but nevertheless, he opened the door for me so careful and slow that I’m not even sure the air stirred.

I turned my shoulders sideways as I slid through the small opening, but I didn’t get up or crouch again once I was inside.

The white grimy tile is freezing on my palms and hurts my knees but I channeled my inner cat. The one that likes to prowl without a sound — not to be confused with the one that will lay down in the warm patch of sunlight without warning.

Being extra careful with my right hand, to make sure the hilt of my knife doesn’t clink or anything as I crawled to the end of the register line. Keeping quiet and my eyes peeled ahead of me straight back to the end of the store which looks like a cracker shelf of some sort. I can already see a bunch of stuff in here that hasn’t been looted.

Not many people would think ‘Dollar Tree’ when panicking about where to stock up on food — at least I never would have. That’s good though.

There’s enough stuff in here that we should be good for  _ at least _ a week. Maybe two or three if we’re creative, a little open minded, a little loose on expiration dates, and ration well.

It’s difficult to tell the layout of the store from the ground like this but I know there’s another register line on either side of this one, and a ‘holiday’ section on the other side of this rightside one.

There’s a walking space in the middle between the registers and the shelves — which I’m headed for right now — and at least 6 rows of shelves and looks like one big one along the back wall.

There’s gotta be an employee door somewhere though that leads to restock. And by the looks of these shelves, there’s a good chance it hasn’t even been touched.

Too bad this place isn’t all food. That would’ve been the jackpot. Most of it is just weird generic crap; overflow stock from bigger stores.

I reached the end of the aisle and paused, recalling where everything was. ‘_Ok, the basket should be on the left-side shelf._ _There was one walker at the far right end of the store_.’

I peeked around the corner of the mini-drink cooler thing you can usually find at the beginning of a checkout aisle.

The shelves in the register line are practically cleaned out, but there’s a lot of stuff on the ground. Most of it’s broken but hey even broken stuff can be useful for other things. I like to call it, repurposing.

My muscles trembled as I carefully leaned out, and a bloated literally gut-dragging walker came into view. Standing at the last aisle, partially hidden by the shelf from this angle. Thank god it’s facing the other way.

I turned my eyes to the left, where the second and third walkers are. One of them isn’t visible because it was tucked farther inside about two aisle’s down from the one across from me right now, and the other is — 

I froze.

_ Ohhh hot potatoes.  _ Where’d it go?

I leaned a little farther, my heart hammering a samba into my throat and I leaned probably farther out than I should have but I still don’t see it.

I moved back into the register lane, shifting so I’m sitting instead of on my hands & knees, and carefully looked back at the others outside the door.

Daryl pointed and I looked directly in front of me, at the register counter.

I glanced between him and it for a moment before getting up to a crouch, using the floor to help keep me balanced and more importantly,  _ quiet _ .

I carefully grabbed the edge of the counter and slowly straightened my back out, using my aching leg muscles just a little bit to raise myself higher until I could peer over the top of it, and a sharp breath startled my lungs as I immediately let go, ducking like someone had thrown a saw blade at my head.

I’m amazed I didn’t make any noise.

The walker is right on the other side of the counter. How did it get  _ right there _ so fast without me noticing!?!

If I go back towards the door, it’ll see me in a heartbeat and draw the attention of all of them.

God — why did I think this was a good idea? Yeah it sounded clever and it worked that one time before when we were already trapped, but maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

Biting my lips, I quietly spun on the toes of my — thankfully — dusty boots and crawled towards the end of the aisle again, glancing back over my shoulder once or twice to make sure that bony pringle isn’t gonna sneak up on me.  _ I’m  _ the ninja. _ Me. _ That’s my job.  _ He can’t have it. _


	117. Chapter 117

I moved as quick as I could to the end, putting my back against the checkout belt/counter thing, so there’s less of a chance I’ll be seen; Like sticking to a wall beneath a window that someone’s looking out of when you’re trying to sneak past.

I glanced into the aisle again, trying to construct a mental map. ‘ _ Kay, Mr.Bloat is still busy. I can hear that one in the aisle growling at dinnerware. And Mr.Pringle with the half-a-shirt is behind the counter. But he’s way too stealthy for my liking. _ ’

I glanced at the guy’s outside one last time — Glenn giving me a thumbs up to let me know I’m good — before I crawled into the aisle, disappearing from their sight, and as fast as I could manage while still trying to keep quiet towards that basket.

I pulled it off the shelf and grabbed the first two balls I could see.

I had to put my knife in the basket so I could carry it with one hand and still crawl without making noise but oh god my ribs do not like this.

The  _ second _ I slid back into the aisle, I grabbed one of the balls and used my arm like a frickin’ catapult, chucking it as hard as I could to the other side of the store.

It wasn’t half a second before I jumped out of my skin and all I could hear was glass smashing in what had to be the  _ loudest  _ way physically possible.

I looked towards the door just as Daryl ripped it open and the 3 of them came sliding in, crouched behind the counter next to me with Rick right behind them.

I looked the other way, cringing and flinching with every sound as things kept breaking —  _ Jesus  _ it’s like someone put a bunch of mugs on an escalator out a window.

The bloated walker barrelled right past me on the end of the lane and I almost gagged at the smell it left in its wake.

But I avoided looking at the others at all cost. Why? Because I can  _ feel _ Daryl staring at me. And it’s not a fun one. It’s that  _ wonderful _ ‘The Hell did you do’ kind of stare.

You know that one that people give you when everyone’s trying to be quiet and your the muffin-brain who knocked over a towering stack of cans? Yeah.

Only this time, it’s a waterfall of never-ending glass apparently. And our lives are at risk.

I shook my head, taking my knives back out as I leaned around the corner to look and —  _ oh my god—  _ that’s a lot.

Hooo ok. Uhhh...

The glass  _ finally _ stopped but the crunching from the half a dozen or so walkers down there trampling on the remains is not giving me any peace of mind. At least their movement will cover ours.

Where the Hell did all those things come from?

I did a quick head count and looked back at Daryl, who’s already looking at me, and held up 6 fingers, using my thumbs to keep hold of my blades.

There’s 6 of them and 5 of us. But Daryl’s the only one with a long ranged weapon that isn’t gonna make a shit ton of noise.

Not that it matters much anymore. If there’s any walkers in those other buildings, or if this place has a backdoor or something, I might as well have just announced our presence to the whole neighborhood.

_ Fantastic  _ job, me. Let me just give myself a slow clap here.

Those gurgling sounds — the kind of thing you expect to hear as a sound effect in a movie — are pretty vicious. It sounds like we really riled them up.

“Eve, Daryl,” Rick whispered at us and we both turned. “Draw their attention, and go that way.” He pointed down the space in front of the aisles. “Take the first two.”

“Glenn, Maggie and I will come up from behind and take the other 3.”

“I can take the last one too.” Daryl pulled his hunting knife from its sheath on his belt behind him. Holding his crossbow now with his knife in his steadying hand.

Rick nodded. “On 3”

I took a breath, puffing out my cheeks and got ready. Been a while since I was the one playing distraction.

“1… 2… 3”

I grabbed another ball from the basket and jumped into the aisle, throwing it right at the center of the walkers right as Daryl whistled.

The center walker turned and the ball hit it smack in the face, knocking it backwards into the shelf and immediately 6 sets of bulging veiny eyes of varying discolors set on us.

Daryl stepped in front of me and shot the closest one to the back side — the side the others will pop out from — and I focused on the one trying to charge us while Daryl tossed his crossbow on the checkout belt.

Instead of risking the wait for it to stumble too close and the possibility of a physical confrontation in my state, I tossed my knife up and caught it by the tip of the blade before throwing it dead center of it’s mushy green perforated eye.

I grabbed Daryl’s elbow, pulling him backwards as they all shambled in a haphazard line towards us, looking behind me so we don’t trip, until we’re far enough the others will be able to jump out unhindered.

Daryl filleted the next one that came close, just before Glenn and Maggie jumped the two at the back and it was almost simultaneous how the 3 bodies dropped, and Rick stabbed the last one right in the back of the head and let gravity pull his knife free as it hit the floor in a crumpled heap over the other ones.

Well, that was easier than I thought.

Glenn panted a little, before pulling my blade out of the one beside his foot and looked at me. “Since when could you throw knives?”

I gave him an odd look. Hasn’t he seen me throw them before?

Rick looked at him too. “You didn’t know? She taught me back at the farm.”

“Hol’ up,” Daryl turned to me. “You taught ‘im how to throw knives? When?”

I gave him an odd look too. I could’ve sworn he was there when Rick asked me.

“Not to break up this little… whatever it is, but can we clear the rest of the store please? I’m starvin’.” Maggie’s got a point.

The 4 of us nodded, Glenn muttering “Right, sorry” and we got back on task.

I got my knife back from Glenn while Daryl got his bow and he motioned with a slight jerk of his head for me to follow to the back, after he finished reloading it.

I let him go first as usual, but if there was anything else in the store — that isn’t stuck or something — I’m pretty sure it would’ve come out by now.

No I didn’t grab several packages of cookies as soon as we cleared the store and no one was looking. No Daryl didn’t give me a look as he just stood there and watched me. Or shake his head and secure his crossbow over his back and pick up one of the plastic handheld store baskets. And of course it would just be crazy talk if he swiped the rest of the shelf into the green thing before handing it to me.

And there most certainly wasn’t a cheeky smile on my face as I took it and grabbed several packages of beef jerky for him.

I don’t know what you’re smokin’. But  _ none  _ of that happened.

‘ _ Oof’  _ The muscles in my arm strained as I stowed my knife and grabbed it with both hands.

This stuff is heavier than it looks.


	118. Chapter 118

There’s enough here to last all of us for a couple of days — thank god.

We got Hella lucky finding this place. But I wouldn’t count on it happening again.

Winter’s coming and I’m concerned.

But there isn’t much than keep us warm. It’s not exactly a depot for clothing — and I knew that — but I thought they’d at least have emergency blankets or something, but there isn’t so much as a pair of itchy awful knitted gloves.

I picked up my 4th and final basket of supplies to take next door, just some basic cleaning supplies which if I remember high school chemistry right, I should be able to mix and either make them a little more potent, or flammable. Soooo, we’ll see how that goes.

I did pick up some crappy pink backpack — you know the kind 5 year olds use? — and ahem, head over to the feminine section (which I didn’t even remember they had until I saw it). I took the liberty of filling this little backpack with as many products as were on the shelves. Until it occurred to me that if the boxes get wet or the packages torn, the products will be useless.

And before you ask, yes I just spent the last 10 minutes sitting criss cross on the floor of an abandoned dollar tree, with a light pink rainbow covered backpack, ripping open more than a dozen boxes of feminine hygiene products and dumping them inside ziplock bags before tucking them into the bag.

T-Dog came looking for me just a few minutes ago and saw what I was doing — at least it wasn’t Daryl — and I still can’t get the look on his face out of my head.

He was  _ soo _ red and I’ve never seen someone stammer so much before just giving up and leaving.

Daryl did however come to find out what the Hell was taking me so long right after I finished.

He held the door as I followed him out and handed off the basket to Beth who was taking it and one other inside the bookstore up to our little set up on the second floor.

“Eve, Daryl” I turned, watching Rick motion us over to him and Hershel.

I handed the pink backpack off to Lori as I passed her — and she looked at me strangely for the lack of explanation of why — going with Daryl to the other two.

She’s smart, I’m pretty sure she can figure out why I gave it to her, without me having to explain.

“What’s up?” Daryl leaned against the car as I sat on the hood next to him. I know I’ll probably have to get back up in a second but I’ll take all the time off my feet I can get.

“Take Glenn, T-Dog, Maggie, and Randall and clear these other stores, look for anything we can use.”

I nodded and went to get off the hood but Daryl stopped me. “Stay ‘ere, I’ll get ‘em.”

Rick walked back into the store with Daryl, while Hershel turned to me. “Let me take a look at you in the meantime.”

* * *

I lowered my shirt after Hershel finished prodding my ribs again, as the others came out, ready to go raid some more stores.

I slid off the hood as Daryl raised an eyebrow at Hershel.

“She’s healing, but it’s gonna take time.”

Daryl nodded and I was finally allowed to get the ground back under my boots.

The 6 of us headed over to the next store beside Dollar Tree and Daryl took point, glancing at me, “Eve, you got our 6. Maggie, Glenn, you got the left. T, Kid you got right.”

Most of us nodded before getting into position.

At least there’ll be plenty of weapons in the hardware store. And tools. Never underestimate the usefulness of a tool. Especially something like a pocket multi-tool or bolt cutters. Which I hope to god are inside cause we could really use those.

* * *

Clearing the rest of the stores was relatively easy and we found a lot. There were only 6 or 7 more walkers divided up between the stores.

I might’ve been a little peeved about getting banished to the back but I don’t actually mind watching the rear — thaaaat came out wrong.

We’ve all been wandering between the stores for the last hour now, collecting our own things.

We put a couple toolboxes in each of the cars.

It makes me wary how untouched these stores are but to be honest, when I think about it, a lot of places  _ could  _ be untouched.

Places like this, that were too far out of the way to be noticed or not nice enough pickings to be worth it.

Little pockets and corners that have been overlooked.

I pushed the door to the clothing store open again.

This is the closest place here where we might be able to find clean clothes, warm stuff, maybe even things like blankets if we’re lucky.

It’s not a huge store. You can see over all the racks and there’s only like 3 or 4 racks for each section (mens, juniors, women, kids, etc).

I let my hand graze some of the fabrics as I passed a shirt rack. Headed towards the other women in the group. Carol, Lori, Maggie, Beth. All of them looking for something more appealing to wear than blood, sweat, and dirt — and probably some tears — covered grimy rags.

I would never have paid money for this stuff, but it’s better than what I have on now.

Still, I’m not crazy about the cheap quality. They won’t last long. Which means we’ll have to find more sooner. Then again, we probably should be changing our clothes more often. They’re practically petri dishes with all the blood we get on them everyday.

Microfiber and spandex blends would be nice. Water & liquid resistant — more so than cotton at least — will keep us cool but still insulated, etc.

There’s no supplementing for quality gear. I mean, take my knives for example. Would me and Glenn have gotten this far if I’d had a pocket knife instead of these things?

I looked around a bit, trying to find the most functional stuff I could, in my size (if it was there; if not, I grabbed the closest thing to it) and believe me it wasn’t easy.

I slipped into the changing room next to Beth after I finally found some stuff, and started peeling out of the disgusting things I’ve been wearing.

It hurt to lift and twist and reach and —  _ everything _ , but I didn’t realize just how bad I smell until I managed to get my shirt off.

I gagged, flinging it into the corner of the little bench,  _ faaaaar _ away from me.

I’m not crazy about tight fitted stuff, makes me feel constricted, but It’s better than getting grabbed. I managed to find some military looking pants — semi-fitted cargo jeans with  _ big  _ pockets on the thighs — and some plain cotton black t-shirts. Frankly, it’s my style.

It’d be better if it wasn’t  _ white _ camo but hey, beggars can’t be choosers. Or in this case, looters of a cheap shop can’t complain.

After I got my shirt on again, I leaned against my palms on the door, trying not to breathe too hard.

I don’t know how long I stood there until someone gently knocked on the door and I flinched.

“You ok in there?” Lori.

I pushed off the door and opened it, giving her a smile.

She gave me a once over, like scanning me to see if I was lying.

She smiled softly and motioned me out. I left my gross clothes as we made our way back into the store and veered to the right as soon as I spotted a big coat.

Winter stuff.

Hats, gloves, big coats, sweaters — picking up a nice sweatshirt for myself after remembering from before when I had thought about it. Etc. I made sure to grab a few that look like they’d fit Carl, Beth, and Randall too, and went to go find them.


	119. Chapter 119

I peeked over the top of a rack, spotting the kids and nothing short of a _devious_ little smile spread across my face.

I grinned like the Cheshire cat, turning my feet sideways and planted my toes into the ground, ready.

* * *

**Glenn’s POV**

“Guys” I snapped my fingers, quickly getting the attention of the others around me — T-Dog, Hershel, and Daryl — and pointed into the clothes store.

“Ah Hell” Daryl almost growled a sigh, rubbing his eyes. He knows that posture — we all do by now. When I met Eve, I  _ never _ would have guessed how much she likes to mess with people. Sometimes it makes me wonder if she was a prankster in school. I honestly can’t see her not being one.

“What does she think she’s doin’?” Daryl grumbled and T-Dog shook his head, smiling and crossed his arms, leaning back against the car so we can watch the show from our near perfect view through the dirty shop windows. Eve on one side of a row of clothes, the unassuming Beth, Randall, and Carl on the other.

Lori just taking notice of Eve from the other side of the kids and smiling a little to herself.

Eve raised the coats above her head, biggest first, pulling her arm back as her tongue poked out over the top corner of her lip — the same way Maggie’s does when she’s concentrating; Eve doing it only when she’s being mischievous from what I’ve seen.

I smiled, pulling myself up onto the hood and leaning back on my hands. Hershel chuckled already.

You know how people say things ‘happened in slow motion’? This happened so fast I don’t even know  _ what _ I saw.

One minute she had the coats, the next they were flying over the rack and then all three kids suddenly had coats hitting them in the face/head.

Then the exact moment Eve’s face said it all. The ‘oh shit  _ RUN _ ’ face and then just…

I have _ never seen  _ someone so injured _ , move so fast _ .

She came  _ flying  _ out of the store like Usain Bolt — Carl on her heels and being the only one of the three who went after her.

I think Randall might have if his leg wasn’t still messed up, cause I saw him go to but he winced almost immediately and grabbed the rack next to him.

Eve though, she hit the door open so fast it  _ swung her  _ out.

I watched her tear off into the small parking lot, dashing around cars, trying to stay ahead of the youngest of our group.

She peeled around a car and suddenly stopped as the kid reached the other side.

Hands slammed on the hood and the older brunette had a standoff with the younger. Both standing on either side of the hood, giving playful eyes to one another.

“You can almost hear the old western music.” T-Dog’s comment made me — and the others watching — snort, watching the two take micro-steps in either directions when one of them moves.

Eve suddenly faked the kid out and while he went one way for half a second, she went the other and  _ zoomed  _ past us — me quickly throwing my hand out to high five her before she was 30 feet away ripping open the bookstore door and almost running right smack into Rick — who she practically  _ spun _ around to dodge.

Carl raced past us to the door, before they both disappeared from our sight; leaving everyone else to laugh.

I glanced up at the windows on the top floor and saw her briefly run by the window, before my attention came back down to the other two victims heading out of the store and looking around.

“That way.” Hershel chuckled, pointing to the store and we watched them go, before getting back to what we were doing.

I smiled even more when I caught the tiniest smile on Daryl’s face as he walked away to do whatever he was doing.

“That girl is some kind of blessing.” Hershel muttered to himself, smiling.

The bookstore door swung open again, almost hitting the outside wall and all three kids right behind her and ran straight for Daryl.

Daryl just barely turned right as she ran behind him.

“What are ya doin?” Daryl tried to look over his shoulder, under his arm, behind him in any way but Eve kept ringing around him while the others chased her until Daryl finally just planted his feet and stood still and it was like someone pressed paused.

All of them stopped, Eve standing behind him; looking a little like she’s heaving.

But while Daryl was ending this game, I looked a little closer at her hands.

She’s got one on Daryl’s shoulder and another,  _ subtly _ placed on her ribs.

She looks like she’s breathing really hard. What is she looking at?

She was looking at the kids over Daryl’s shoulder a second ago but now she’s….

I followed her eyes to something on the ground but I can’t see it very well from here.

I took a couple steps to get closer, trying to see what it is before Rick called out behind me, “Glenn.”

“Huh? What?” I turned.

“I need you and T.” he motioned at us.

I looked back at Eve but she’s not looking at the thing anymore.

“Yeah sure.” I looked at her for another few seconds but she looks… fine again. Smiling at the kids over Daryl’s shoulder, mouth closed, lips in a line.

I followed Rick but that strange little feeling that something wasn’t right with her in that moment is sticking with me, and for the next half hour while we were all getting settled into the upstairs while the sun went down, I kept an eye on her (after she, Daryl, and Rick came upstairs from securing the doors and windows downstairs to make sure we’d all be safe here tonight).


	120. Chapter 120

**Eve’s POV**

The kids took off towards the bookstore again at the call of Hershel and Lori, and unfortunately that marked the end of our fun time. It’s time to get back to work and get tucked in for the night.

I’m glad I did it though. I’m glad I managed to brighten things up a little bit. I thought I was gonna suffocate under that atmosphere.

I heaved a little, letting my hands slide off Daryl’s shoulders as he turned around, and placed one on my side. It might have cost me a little though. Hershel’s gonna kill me — if Daryl doesn’t get to me first, and judging by the way he’s glaring at me right now like a parent who told their kid not to do something, just to watch them do it, my odds aren’t great.

I bit my lips, grimacing and waited for the tongue lashing but surprisingly, it never came.

Daryl just stared me down and I’m gonna be honest, it’s more effective than I thought. I can’t help fidgeting a little and can only take brief glances at his eyes, never mind hold the gaze.

“Are you  _ ever _ gon’ learn?”

I opened my mouth but nothing came out.

A deep sigh, giving away pure exhaustion forcefully parted his lips as he looked down, rubbing his eyes.

I grimaced again, wanting to say sorry but at the same time not; because I’m not sorry for doing it, and I don’t want to patronize him with an apology I don’t really mean. So I settled for cooperating when he shook his head and put his palm on my back.

“Come on.” With a little force between my shoulder blades, Daryl marched me back to the bookstore and we made our way upstairs to the camp that’s been all set up already.

I have to admit though, 1) the stairs were horrible, and 2) the heat from his hand actually made my back feel a lot better. And it was much easier to keep my pace on the stairs with the slight pushing.

The room is still light enough from the sun that I can see, but the sun’s going down fast now. Like time sped up as soon as we got inside. And that would be why like 6 people are setting up candles around the room.

Most of them are those little tiny ones that people use for baths. The ones that only last like 3 hours max. I don’t know where they found those, but I’m gonna assume they found at least 2 bags of them, because they’re  _ everywhere _ .

How are we gonna light these all? And are we gonna light  _ all  _ of them, cause that’s not a great idea. We’re gonna need light even after tonight.

So unless I missed something — entirely possible — and we’re planning to say here for more than a night or two, we shouldn’t use even half of these.

Most of the beds look like they’re set up on the left side of the room next to the bookshelves, where some of the study tables have been moved out of the way. Most of the gear we managed to collect is being sorted through on the right, where it’s all piled next to the wall. 

Looks like someone found some plastic bins in one of the stores but not enough to fit everything it seems.

I do spy a canteen though. I wonder where we found that.

Randall is sitting on the windowsill, keeping an eye outside I’m assuming. And Hershel seems to have claimed a chair, facing the stairs.

Daryl pointed to a floor space next to a few candles that have been setup on a bin and grumbled. “Lay down.”

That was the most non-negotiable sentence I’ve ever heard in my life.

So naturally I sat down — as did he, next to me — but he raised one expectant eyebrow and I sighed, actually doing as told and laid down.

“Ey” Daryl got Randall’s attention and pointed to a stack of 3 plastic buckets just behind the kid, tucked into the corner. “Grab somethin’ outta there.”

“Uh yeah, sure.”

I turned my head so I can look up/behind me and watch him — upside down — pop open the bin and grab a couple crinkly packages of junk food and toss them to Daryl one at a time. Daryl catching one by one and dropping them in his lap.

“Thanks.” 

“Yeah, no problem.” Randall smiled and I gave him a reassuring wink. Don’t worry, kid. You’re doin’ great. You already fit in more than you think.

Hell if  _ Daryl _ already thinks you’re part of the group — for the most part — then it’s only a matter of time before the others do. Maybe they already do. Daryl is the hardest to convince when it comes to certain things, trust being the top of the list but as far as I can tell, he seems to trust the kid as much as he trusts Beth and the younger members.

“Eat this.” Daryl tore one of the shiny blue packages open and instead of handing it to me, he tossed it onto my chest, hitting me in the face.

I flinched at the impact and heard a snort as soon as I grabbed it away from my face. I glanced up at Randall who tried to cover his smile with his hand the moment I looked at him but Daryl openly snorted even when I gave him a little bit of a stink eye.

“If you don’t want ‘em” Daryl reached to take it back just as the divine smell of cream and chocolate hit my nose.

A loud hissing came from my throat as I immediately curled into the tightest ball I can manage without hurting myself.

“Jesus, calm down, cookie monster.” Daryl flicked my leg as I stuck my tongue into the package and tried to scrap the mini cookies into my mouth without using my hands. It took a few tries and enduring some of Carl’s giggles before I managed it but  _ ohhhh my god _ . That divine soft crunch, the chocolate explosion soothed only by the thin layer of vanilla creme between the tiny fingernail sized wafers. MMmmmmm. Slightly stale cookies have never tasted so good.

Like a switch had been flicked, a ravenous hunger erupted in my stomach. I became extremely aware of that  _ almost  _ painful clenching right before your stomach growls and sure enough, not half a second later my stomach growled and I just picked up the package, rolled onto my back again and unhinged my jaw, dumping the entire contents into my mouth and my cheeks puffed out as I closed it, nodding as I started to chew.

I heard a chuckle and glanced around but no one’s even looking at me. It wasn’t Randall, so who— I watched Daryl scoot his back against the wall near my feet and lifted my head a little, narrowing my eyes.

Did he actually just laugh at me?

I swallowed the chocolate mushy mess in my mouth (which is only  _ not  _ gross because I’m the one who just chewed it up) and tossed the crinkly wrapper aside.

“Here, have these ones too.”

I looked over and watched T-Dog toss another blue package our way and Daryl caught it before it could hit me in the stomach and held it out.

I sat up a little to grab it and he popped it open before scooting just a little closer, until one of heaven’s greatest gifts was in my hand.

My tongue poked the corner of my mouth as I laid back down, pouring a good 3rd of it into my mouth.

I shot T a thankful thumbs up with a side of cookie-stuffed closed smile. And he returned it with a dismissive wave.

Everyone else started settling down for the night as the light finally became too dim and candles started being lit. Food being passed around, water bottles and other drinks. It’s mostly sugary junk but honestly right now, that might be a good thing. It’s not a bad idea for us all to pack on some calories while we can.


	121. Chapter 121

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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A half hour passed by in a blink, the shrine of wrappers in the center of all of us has grown to mountainous proportions. I’m pretty sure Carl could hide under it if he curled up.

The wrapper in my hands made a symphony of crinkles as I folded it for the thousandth time. If we had needle & thread, we could probably stitch all these together into an emergency blanket.

I shifted, readjusting my calves where they’re resting over Daryl’s legs — don’t ask, cause I couldn’t tell you how or when it happened if I wanted to — but now that I’m practically in a sugar coma, I tossed the wrapper into the pile, to be with it’s people.

My hand dropped back onto my stomach a little harder than I wanted and sent a sharp twinge through my gut. Now this is the freaky part. I _ barely _ moved — like it could easily have been mistaken for just breathing, and Daryl still looked at me.

And he didn’t look away even after he scanned me. I raised my eyebrows at him and I’m in trouble. It looks like he’s starting to see past that. I’m gonna have to figure out a new art of deflection.

I turned my eyes over to one of the little candles near my head, just watching the flame flicker.

Is it just me or is he becoming like… hyper aware of what I do?

I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s starting to make me just a little concerned. It feels like he knows something I don’t. Like he’s waiting for something to happen.

I mean, I know I’m not exactly the poster child for ‘better safe than sorry’ but I’m not _ that _ reckless.

Am I?

Tingles suddenly sprouted in my forehead right before I was poked and my eyes crossed watching as the finger retracted. I looked past it to Glenn’s warmly-lit face.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“My mouth tastes like chocolate and Cheeto dust and I can’t decide if I like it or not.” I smacked my lips.

A snort erupted on the other side of our wrapper bonfire, sounding suspiciously like a young boy, followed by the hearty snickers of adults.

“You should be asleep.” Lori — surprisingly — scolded from directly opposite of me. I honestly thought Daryl was gonna do that. Again.

“I’m not tired.” I turned my head into the floor.

Lori chuckled, glancing at Carol for some reason but no one else seems to understand either. So I’m going to assume it’s a mother thing.

“Eve...” I looked up at Glenn just above my head where he sits next to Maggie. “You’re talking. So either you’re _ drunk _, or you’re tired.”

“And we know you ain’t drunk.” T-Dog chuckled like he’s remembering something funny.

“Or she’s had too much sugar.” Carol commented from next to him, down by Daryl’s feet.

You saying I’m high?

Oh man, what I wouldn’t give to be high right now.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a tweaker — nor have I ever been, but it sure would make the healing process more pleasant.

Speaking of which, my back and a whole lot of other places are starting to burn and ache. I need to sit up.

I started to put my elbows underneath me and almost immediately Glenn was behind me, “Hey hey — be careful.”

I tried not to hiss as he pushed on my back until I was sitting up but once I was up, my eyebrows knit and I poked my tongue into my cheek.

Is it just me… or is everyone paying an unusual amount of attention to me today? Like _ waaaaay _ more than normal.

I looked around the circle, starting with Glenn on my left, Maggie to his, Carl next to her on the corner, Lori next to him directly across from me, Beth next to her, Hershel in a chair behind her and Rick next to him, T-Dog behind to Lori and Carol next to him, then finally Daryl next to me, and Randall just above/behind me (at my 5 o’clockish), sitting on the table/windowsill keeping an eye outside. And at least 4 of them were already looking at me when my gaze got to them.

People are watching me. It’s weird.

I don’t like it.

I shifted, scooting a little closer to Daryl and nudged him with my elbow.

He looked at me and I turned my head towards him as I leaned closer to mumble, “Why’s everyone watching me?”

“What?” His face scrunched and I flicked my eyes towards the corner. He looked back at everyone and I watched his eyes moving around a bit — god his eyes are _ really _ blue right now. I don’t know if it’s the lighting or because he isn’t scowling or what, but they usually look a little darker than this.

It makes me want a camera with a macro lense. Or like a polaroid or something. Hmm, I wonder if there are any of those left that’ll still work? I mean obviously there are probably still cameras that’ll work, but how long will it be before the film expires. Does film have an expiration date? I think it does — but, wait— wait a sec... What was I doing again?

“Maybe if ya stop hurtin’ yerself no one would look at ya.”

I opened my mouth and found it closing a second later and leaned back against the wall, my shoulder resting just behind his.

Fine fine. I concede this one. But it’s too easy to get hurt these days.

I sighed, feeling the urge to run my hand through my hair.

It’s too easy to get hurt and we don’t have hardly any ways to prevent it. The world used to be full of safety nets. Like seatbelts & air bags, Emergency rooms & ambulances, people to call for help, warning labels, fire extinguishers, hard-hats, bullet proof vests, you name it.

There were all kinds of backup plans to stop and/or minimize the damage of dangers.

We don’t have anything like that anymore. I mean we do, physically. All that stuff is still out there in the world but we don’t have any safety measures _ whatsoever _ for walkers and the straight up outdoors.

If only there was a manual for this. I smiled in amusement to myself. If there was a manual for these...things...

I blinked.

I’m a dumbass.

I am honestly, truly, the biggest dumbass left in the whole of the world.

I stared at the top of the bookshelf on the farthest side of the room, nearest to the stairs.

A cozy little green sign sitting on top of it with a nice white trim border, and in the biggest easiest to read letters ever — even in this lighting — it reads: _ ‘Nature & Animals _’.

The shelf two down from it? ‘_ Guides & Manuals _’

“_ If only there was a manual for this _ ” I mocked myself. ‘ _ I’m sitting in a go ram _ library _ ! _’


	122. Chapter 122

Wow. I just became the cliche to end all cliches.

“What?”

I looked at Daryl and hummed, “Hm?”

“Why ya makin’ that face?”

What face?

Did my internal cringe just leak into the external?

I shook my head and maneuvered up to my feet.

“Where d’ya think yer goin?” Daryl questioned and I glanced at him pointing to the bookshelf.

I stepped around T & Carol and glanced again, hearing Daryl stand up and follow me.

I stopped to grab a candle from a table before going over to the bookshelves.

“What’re ya lookin’ for?” Daryl sorta growled. He’s getting impatient with me. I can hear it in his voice.

“Anything useful.” I started pulling books off the shelf and stacking them on the table behind me.

“Useful?” Daryl took one of them from me as I was setting it down and turned it over to the cover.

“Like what? Native Georgia plants?” Daryl scrunched his face at the book. “What d’ya need these for?”

I set another couple on the table in front of him and sat down. “Survival.”

I flipped open one of the smaller books cause there’s no way I’m starting with, like a 12 lbs _ tome, _ that is the nature book I just set down.

* * *

My eyes skittered over the black ink and pictures for lord knows how long until Daryl finally put his hand on my shoulder. “Alright, that’s enough. Let’s get some sleep.”

My cheeks puffed out as I blew air through my lips and flipped the book shut, nodding in agreement.

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here, but it feels longer than waiting for your turn in the bathroom after 4 bottles of Gatorade in under an hour.

Now let me tell you. That’s _ not _fun.

My eyes feel like dried fruit.

I inhaled deeply through my nose, smashing my knuckles into my eyeballs.

Daryl’s been sitting here with me, reading this whole time. Teaching me a little bit more about hunting and outdoor survival. It was mostly just me asking the occasional short question and him bestowing some a dat life-long hunting experience on me.

Rick caught on to my line of thinking eventually and he, Glenn, and us two talked a little bit about new… let’s call them ‘safety measures’ that we’re gonna try out. We didn’t talk much though, agreeing to save it for tomorrow when we’re all rested.

Randall was over here some time ago as well. When Daryl & I hit the section of this plants book that is mind-bogglingly complicated. Like seriously, I _ never _would have thought botany could get so complicated.

Or maybe I’m just _ reeeeeeaaaaally _bad at it. There go my dreams of becoming an alchemist. I’ll have to settle for spell-caster. I’m good with my hands and tools though, maybe I could be an enchanter. When you can’t do the thing you wanted to, the next best thing is close enough, right?

Speaking of magic. Carl was here for a minute or two at one point. He was showing me this fantasy book that looked really interesting, wanting to read it before his mom said bedtime.

I don’t really remember if he actually got to read some before bed; which is probably a bad sign cause that means anything I’ve read since I started getting too tired is probably gonna be gone by morning.

Tch, well there goes those hours. On the bright side, I’ve officially crashed. No more itchy feet.

My jaw and a whole lot of other things — including my entire spine — cracked as I yawned, leaning back. My sides burned a little as I laced my fingers together in front of me, stretching my arms up & over my head. But I’m tired enough that I can ignore it while I glanced around the dark room through the sliver-slits of my nearly closed eyes.

Everyone’s laying down and asleep in their own claimed little spots except for me, Daryl, and T who just took over watch Randall not 5 minutes ago.

Now that I think about it, that’s probably why Daryl chose now to drag my nose out of this ink jumble of a book.

“Come on.” Daryl shoved the books away from me almost dragging me out of my chair as I stood up.

A sharp pain shot through both of my knees the moment they were unbent and I put weight on them.

I tried not to hiss over the stiff muscles but I ended up grabbing Daryl’s forearm back (he’s still got mine from making me get up) to steady myself as I straighten them out and ohhhhhh they are not liking it.

This is why you shouldn’t sit still for this long.

I should’ve at least wiggled around while I drowned my little sponge in the soup of written knowledge & sometimes questionable “wisdom”.

But nope. I just sat there.

And I can’t even tell for how long because the only timepiece I have, is in my backpack.

I don’t how I got back over here in my spot by the wall, but Daryl laid next to me, tucking his backpack under his head and putting his far left arm under his head, moving a bit to get comfortable.

I just laid here and watched. My eyes halfway shut and every time I blink, they try to stay that way.

I feel weird.

Like really tired, but strangely at peace. And — this is gonna sound mad, even to myself — but I actually feel _ safe _. Tucked away at the back wall, T-Dog keeping watch with one little candle still flickering and casting a small radiance of warm light over his dark physique on the opposite side of the sleeping group.

Everyone resting around me, as worry-free as can be in their own little spots.

It’s like being in the center of a giant nest, or a big pack of wolves but it’s _ your _pack. It’s kind of an amazing feeling.

And… I admit, the only reason I’m comfortable being this _ enclosed _ by other people, is in large part because of the person right next to me. Separating me from the world so I can sleep. Like a personal safety bubble.

I don’t know how Daryl’s ok with being this central in the group though. He isn’t usually comfortable being this close to other people, but he’s _ right _next to me.

Granted there’s a mountain of trash and we’re the only two on this side of it (that’s all there’s room for), but I didn’t think he’d be ok with this.

And I think… I think it’s probably safe for me to say that if anyone else were laying where I am right now, he wouldn’t be where he is either.

That makes me feel oddly like I have a higher ‘clearance’ than anyone. But I feel like I’ve damn well earned it after everything we’ve been through, at each other’s backs.

I haven’t felt this at ease sleeping this close to someone since — no, wait. I have felt like this before, recently. It was… oh man when was it?

It was raining. I was lying on my stomach. Daryl was there too. It had to have been at the farm. I know it was. Cause it was when he moved away from the camp and I tread out there to see him.

I barely noticed when my eyes shut and didn’t open again, even though I felt eyes on me. I know they’re Daryl’s.


	123. Chapter 123

**3rd Person POV**

Daryl jolted awake as a sharp pain exploded in his arm. His mind immediately racing to the assumption that something bit him and his hand flew towards the source, intending to rip it away but he stopped the moment he got hold of it.

Even in the pitch black darkness Daryl knew exactly who’s wrist he grabbed. His mind struggled to catch up as he blinked, trying to see through the dark but he only got the basic outline of the woman next to him before a sound made him freeze.

It was soft and barely noticeable — he wouldn’t have if it wasn’t so quiet, but it sounded like a whimper.

He didn’t need to listen much more carefully to hear the rapid uneven breaths beside him.

He flinched as stinging shot up his arm when her nails dug farther into his bicep. Daryl growled under his breath, pulling on her wrist to try and pry her off of him.

It wasn’t easy to get her hand off, she had a death grip to end all grips on him but as soon as he hand snapped off she mumbled something that sounded eerily like “Don’t let go”

He grabbed her shoulders and tried shaking her, his voice rough with sleep as he muttered, “Eve, Eve. Wake up”

He’s seen her have nightmares before. Heard her scream herself awake

Without warning, Eve shot up gasping like she was being waterboarded.

Her eyes flew all over the room before they fixed on Daryl and he actually jolted, reflexively grabbing her knee when her leg almost came flying at him.

“ ** _It’s me_ ** ” Daryl growled but it had the opposite of the desired effect.

Eve started hyperventilating and instead of grabbing Daryl’s arm, she twisted hers out — alarmingly easy — and grabbed at her chest.

Daryl’s jaw sprung into pain as he clenched his teeth and all but scrambled for the lighter he knows is around here somewhere, but his frantic search stopped as soon as she stopped trying to pull her arm away.

Eve struggled to force air into her lungs and barely recognized the warm thing that she dug her nails into was flesh as her eyes shot around in the darkness.

Sweat clung all over her skin, making the dark room feel cold as a high mountain cave, yet she felt like her skeleton was boiling her from the inside.

Neither of the two noticed the confused shuffling on the other side of Eve until a sudden bright blue-ish light flicked on and a worried, confused, slightly panicking little voice spoke, “Wh— what’s going?”

Carl aimed the small flashlight at the two others who were awake and 

But their voices fell on deaf ears. Eve didn’t register anything except the last 3 seconds of the nightmare that sent her into a panic attack the moment her eyes snapped open and the rush of flashes that are trying to strangle her with her own throat.

“ _ Breathe _ , Eve” Daryl gave up on trying to control what’s happening and just grit his teeth, grasping Eve’s arm back, firmly but not enough to hurt her like she is him.

The haze of sleep completely cleared from Carl’s mind as he watched — confused and terrified of what’s happening. His hands shaky and sweating clung to the flashlight, trying not to aim it at their faces and instead let it shine closer to their stomachs.

Daryl didn’t do nothin’ except move his head in front of her, “Ey ey. Look at me. You gotta breathe, Eve.”

It was hard to stop her eyes from flying but Eve mustered what little willpower was still under her control and managed to force her eyes to Daryl’s.

“That’s righ’.” Daryl made sure to keep solid eye contact with her, moving his head back into her line of sight when she moved.

“What color are my eyes?” He has no idea what possessed him to say it, but the only thing he can think to do is try to distract ‘er.

It seemed to work as her eyebrows furrowed for half a second and her focus seemed to lock down for a moment.

He took advantage of the temporary confusion that appears to have had the pleasant side effect of causing a blip in the panic and said it again, “ _ Breathe. _ ”

Daryl brought Eve’s hand closer to his chest even though she’s still got his forearm in her  _ claws _ .

Eve struggled to do as told and Daryl could see the open pain on her face as her hand traveled from her chest to her ribs. She almost sounds like she’s sniffling but it’s drier, and there’s no moisture in her eyes.

Carl cautiously scooted closer and Daryl warned, “Don’t touch ‘er.”

“Is she ok?” Carl asked in a small voice, squeezing his hands so tight he can’t feel his fingers. He has no idea what’s happening — why she’s like this. It’s not like they were attacked, and she was fine earlier.

Unbeknownst to him, he isn’t alone. Daryl is just as confused as to what brought this on all of a sudden. It could’a been a nightmare, it could’a been a memory, could’a been that stupid thing on the ground earlier; though he has no idea why that triggered her in the first place — Hell he’s not even sure  _ she _ knows what triggered this. Definitely not right this second.

Eve finally managed to get a deep breath, no matter how shaky, and a few tries later, another one.

“Grab a water bottle.” Daryl instructed Carl in a hush, only taking his eyes off Eve for half a second to glance at the kid.

Carl nodded and dropped the flashlight next to them as he crawled at a speed only a kid can manage without making much noise, and only  _ just _ noticed that Carol’s awake and sitting up too, as he crawled towards her.

She grabbed a bottle and handed it to Carl without hesitation, and the two crawled back towards Eve & Daryl.

Eve kept her eyes on Daryl’s, fixated on the dark grayish blue they are in the harsh but small light reflecting off her gut right now. She followed his lead, breathing in through her nose, out through her mouth; matching her pace to his as best she could.

She tried to dislodge her talons in Daryl’s arm but it only worked a little bit, so instead she focused on the warmth of Daryl’s thigh against her own and just tried to concentrate on calming down.

God this sucks. These are the worst ones. The ones where she wakes up already launching full throttle into an attack. At least when she’s awake she has some semblance of control when they come on. She starts coping much sooner.

With these, it’s like she wakes up already halfway through at the worst part and it can take anywhere from half an hour to 4 full ones to calm down.

It has been getting easier since Daryl started helping her though. Since she’s been getting outside help and doesn’t have to call her own wherewithal to arms before she can actually get to the coping part.

Carol held Carl’s shoulders tight, gently rubbing his up and down his arm. She’s even more confused than he is but Daryl seems to know what he’s doing, he looks like he knows what’s going on. But that makes her wonder, has he done this before?

Her worried eyes watched Eve, and watched Daryl manage to trade his now bleeding arm for his other hand, that Eve almost reflexively took with both of hers, squeezing until her knuckles turned white. Like if she let go he’d fall into lava; while Daryl put his hand on the backside of her shoulder and muttered something that sounded like “Yer ok. Ain’t nothin’ wrong.”

Carol’s eyebrows rose just a little. Surprised that the man normally hesitant all around when it comes to physical-contact,  _ didn’t  _ hesitate at all to touch Eve.

She knew the two are close, but apparently they’re closer than she thought.

Eve’s breathing finally came back to the fringes of normal and she let her head hang a little, closing her eyes to block out everything that isn’t filling and expelling her lungs, and the warm reassuring pressures on both her leg, hands, and shoulder.

Daryl glanced at the other two, noticing Carol for the first time and her grip on Carl. ‘ _ Good _ ’ he can’t handle the kid and Eve at the same time. Hershal or someone else might be able to, but he can’t. He ain’t good at consoling. Only reason he knows how to do this much is cause he watched Hershal do it with her the first time he witnessed it and the old timer taught him, just in case; which has come in handy more times than he’d like.

His eyes caught on Carol’s hand on the kid’s arm and like ‘monkey see monkey do’ his own hand on Eve’s back copied the motion, only his took on a more… circular path, in a much smaller area; not totally comfortable with the ‘comforting’ motion until a few seconds later when it seemed to be helping.

Eve’s breaths came more like successive but controlled sighs and Carl finally swallowed and shakily asked, “Is she gonna be ok?”

“Course she is, sweetie.” Carol hugged him closer to her side, rubbing his arm.

“She’s gon’ be just fine. Ain’t that right, Sunshine?” Daryl scooted to accommodate Eve as she shuffled closer, so their shoulders aren’t even a foot apart. She licked her dry lips as she swallowed, nodding and carefully let go of Daryl’s hand with her right one, to give Carl a shaky thumbs up.

‘ _ Thank god it wasn’t a ‘no touchy’ one. _ ’ Eve bit her lips already sorry for scaring Carl. If she’d had an attack that made her run, it could have woken up the entire group and would’ve scared the Hell out of the kid.

Now that she thinks about it though, she’s surprised no one else woke up.

A creak came from the other side of the room and 3 sets of startled eyes flew to the stairs but relaxed as T-Dog stopped in his tracks, staring back at them.

Eve stopped herself from flinching when she’d heard the creak, and took a peek out of the corner of her eye but as soon as she saw it was just T-Dog, she went back to calming her rapid heartbeat.

“What’s goin’ on ‘ere?” he made his way over, confused as all Hell. He’s seen a lot of strange scenes involving Eve in the past, but this is the first he’s seriously questioned in awhile.

Carl and Carol both looked at Daryl (hey that rhymes), unable to answer if they wanted to.

“Nothin’. We’re good. Right?” Daryl looked at Eve and she blew one more breath between her lips before lifting her head and looked in T’s direction, and nodded.

T looked between them for a few seconds, lingering on Daryl & Eve’s hands but nodded. Deciding not to push it, which Eve was grateful for.

She knows she’s gonna have to explain this later. She’s gonna have to explain to Carl.

He’s a bright kid but she doesn’t know how well he’ll understand this. As far as she knows, he has no experience with someone… damaged.

That being said, he handled this rather well to be honest.

She finally loosened her grip on Daryl’s hands, enough to recognize she’s actually shaking and looked at Carl.

Eve’s heart cracked a little. God she feels for this boy. He’s been through so much so young. He’s probably scared to death something gonna happen, every day. And she just added to his pile of things to worry about.

Eve sighed, giving the best little soft smile she can manage and opened her arm out to him.

Carl launched out of Carol’s arms and straight into Eve’s side like his life depended on it and almost immediately started crying into her shoulder.

Eve held in a hiss as his skinny little arms wrapped around her torso and balled his fists into the back of her shirt.

Eve moved her leg out of the way and positioned it on the other side of the kid so he was as close as a person can get to her and wrapped her arm around him, gently stroking his hair the way she’s seen Lori do when he’s upset.

Her torso aches but she can deal because he’s crying his eyes out, muffled only by how deep he’s buried himself in her chest/shoulder.

Surprisingly, it’s helping  _ her _ more than him.

Daryl turned himself around so he sat shoulder to shoulder with Eve, letting go of her hand, but for some reason something at the back of his mind told him he shouldn’t let her go yet.

He hesitated, unsure if he actually should but Eve unconsciously shifted closer the millisecond he got more than a few centimeters from her and his arm took on a mind of its own, piloted by that little voice that told him to set it around her shoulders.

Eve flinched a little and he almost went to pull his arm away but she leaned into it just as quickly.

He was right. She still needs that little bit of reassurance that he’s nearby. Then if something goes wrong — even though she knows full well that nothing will — he’s right here to cover her.

Eve almost scoffed, rolling her eyes  _ at herself _ .

‘ _ All this cause of a stupid little metal bottle-opener on the asphalt. _ ’


	124. Chapter 124

**Eve’s POV**

“A panic attack?” Carl’s eyebrows furrowed.

I nodded, tearing the candy bar in half and giving him half of the sugary treat.

Professor Lupin was right. Chocolate makes you feel better.

“You know what a panic attack is, kid?” Daryl took the piece of chocolate I broke off from mine and tossed it in his mouth, bumping my shoulder with his as he pulled his knee up to rest his arm over it.

Carl’s face scrunched. “Sort of. My dad said it was like being scared all the time for no reason.”

My eyebrows knit before I opened my mouth and at the same time Daryl and I both said, “ **Not exactly.** ”

We looked at each other.

“That’s more like an anxiety disorder. A panic attack is like...” I bit my lip, thinking how best to explain this in a way he can understand.

“Ah, it’s like that moment when you first see a walker. When your mind starts racing and you get scared. Only you can’t stop it.”

“You can’t?” His eyebrows dipped down in confusion, glancing between me and Daryl. “But Daryl did.”

I shook my head. “You can’t stop it. You just have to wait for it to pass.”

His face fell. “You can’t do  _ anything? _ ”

I gave him a tight smile. “You can help the symptoms. They’re fast though, even if it feels like it’ll go on forever. They only last 10-15 minutes at most.”

“Why?” Part of me is glad he’s so curious, and part of me doesn’t wanna talk about this anymore. But I can’t leave it as is, not when a 10 year old is looking at me so concerned.

“Do you know what a flight or fight response is?”

He nodded, brown bangs shaking on his forehead. “It’s that thing that tells you to run when you’re scared.”

“Or fight when yer in trouble.” Daryl added, chewing the inside of his lip as he listens, and subtly shifted a little closer to me. I think he can tell I’m not too keen on talking about this so soon after an attack. I’m not shaky anymore but it’s still just a bit too soon for comfort.

I nodded, grateful this kid’s a bright one so I don’t have to be too… specific with the details. “The flight or fight response tells your body when to defend yourself. A panic attack is it triggering when there’s no real danger.”

“No real danger?”

I hummed, “Like when you remember something that really scared you.”

“Or if you have a nightmare...?”

I nodded. “There’s also things called triggers, like if you see something that reminds you of something scary that happened. Or it could be just thinking about it too much, or dwelling on things. Sometimes you might not even know what the trigger was.”

“Wait, does that mean it can happen any time?” His eyes widened in alarm.

“For some people, yes. But not everyone.”

“What about you?” He shuffled, gripping the end of his shirt; which I don’t think he even realizes he’s doing. “Are yours random?”

I shook my head, chewing my lip. My mouth dried out and I swallowed, glancing down for a second, then at Daryl. “Mine aren’t like that.”

“Then… why do you have panic attacks?”

I never thought I’d have to have this conversation without having been the one to bring it up myself.

How do I even explain to a kid surviving the fall of humanity that not everyone had a family growing up. Or that not everyone was loved as a kid? Or that some adults don’t…see kids...as kids.

How am I supposed to...? What do I say?

I looked at Daryl again, almost begging with my eyes for help. And his face said it all. He doesn’t have a clue either. Despite both of us being intimately familiar with this topic. I’ve never had to explain this to anyone accept a select few over my entire life, much less a kid.

Carl sat quietly, waiting for an answer but no matter how many times my mouth moved, nothing came out.

No matter how many times I licked my lips, trying to think of  _ something _ , I just… couldn’t find the words. I don’t use those often anyway.

Maybe there just isn’t a good way to explain this— 

“Sometimes people get hurt.”

My eyebrows jumped along with the rest of me (Daryl too; though he’ll never admit it) as I whipped my eyes towards Carol.

I’m gonna be honest, I totally forgot she was still awake, even though she’s sitting up.

Carl turned around in his spot between my knees. I think he’s afraid to move away from me. He might be thinking if he moves away it’ll happen again. Or maybe he doesn’t fully believe I’m ok yet.

God this must be scary for him. And so confusing.

I never wanted him to see this. He has enough to deal with, growing up surrounded by all of this.

But I suppose it’s better this way. He’s gonna need to know this stuff eventually. Most people have a panic attack at least once or twice in their life and with our daily stress and anxiety we all face now, it’s better he knows it can happen.

“When they get hurt, it becomes trauma. Like a scar you can’t see.” 

“Like a mental scar?” Carl asked. See, smart as a whip.

“Exactly that.” Carol nodded.

“And when something happens that reminds them of when they got it, it causes a panic attack.” It sounds…like she’s done this before…

Ed and Sophia flashed across my mind and my jaw clenched; my shoulders tensing at just the thought of what horrors Carol could have possibly had to explain to her  _ child _ .

It’s one thing to live that stuff. It’s another to have to explain to a little girl why her dad uses her mom like a punching bag.

“Why?” Carl turned back to me.

I licked my lips, pushing the flame wanting to rise to my fists back into the pit it simmers in. “You know how you can remember some things from years ago and it feels like you’re actually there?”

Carl thought for a second, before he nodded; presumably finding a memory just like that.

“That’s what you call a vivid memory. And traumatic experiences create vivid memories, because your mind is really good at remembering stuff that hurt, so you can avoid it in the future. It has to work at remembering the good stuff, which is why it’s  _ more  _ important to focus on the good stuff so you can remember it just as well.”

“That’s stupid. Why doesn’t it just remember the happy stuff?”

Daryl snorted beside me as I smiled. “I know right?”

“I guess it’s just tryna let us off the hook for making ourselves remember bad stuff so we know what to do when it happens the next time.”

Carl’s mouth made an ‘O’. And I glanced at Carol and T-Dog whose eyebrows were raised a little, impressed.

“I never thought about that before.” T-Dog ran a hand over his bald head.

“Me neither.” Daryl mumbled, picking at his fingernails in his lap.

I didn’t notice I’d been observing him until Carl shifted again to face me more; his back brushing my knee.

“It’s still stupid.”

A sudden chuckle broke the atmosphere, and even more surprising, it was  _ my own. _

The other adults finding subdued laughs of their own. Even Daryl chuckled under his breath for a second.

“Don’t worry, Eve. If you have another panic attack, I’ll help you.”

The corners of my lips pulled up and it’s his own fault that I leaned forward and crushed him in a bear hug. How is this kid so amazing?

Why are kids such angels? (I will probably regret saying that later when he decides to pull something again, but for now, it stands.)

Carl hugged me back, after wiggling his head free of suffocation by my arm and I saw Carol smile warmly and sadly, looking down before she laid down again.

“I’ll take watch, T.” I pulled back from Carl, or tried at least, but he’s not done yet, so I let my arms rest around him while he continued to hug me.

“Sure you don’t wanna catch a few more Z’s?”

I nodded. He’s been on watch since I went to sleep I think. And it’ll be dawn in a few hours at most.

“Ok,” he shrugged, something about it unconvinced but still went to lay down. 

“You sure?” Daryl spoke lowly, nudging my shoulder with his.

I met his eyes, nodding.

There’s no way I’m gonna be able to sleep after this. So might as well let everyone else rest.

My eyes turned to the window, from the floor the starry deep purplish sky is in almost perfect view. If the window wasn’t so white and fogged around the edges; in need of a good scrub, just like everything else now.

I’d probably be able to get a better view if I went downstairs. The door’s cleaner.

I think I would’ve gone outside already — made a break for it the moment I woke up — if Daryl hadn’t been right there.

Speaking of which, why was he awake?

Daryl sighed, interrupting my thoughts, and made himself comfortable next to me.

I raised an eyebrow. He gave me a stubborn look.

‘ _ I ain’t goin’ to sleep _ ’ is written all over him like a 5 year old got a hold of a Sharpie.

Carl let go of me finally but as soon as I didn’t have to take more than a second to know he’s not going back to bed any time soon either.

I sighed and dug into my pocket.

A sharp gasp popped my lips apart like I’d stabbed my finger.

“What?” Carl jumped.

I smacked every pocket I have until I smacked one and relaxed, pulling what nearly gave me a heart attack out of my pocket.

“Thought I lost my cards.” I took the deck that’s been surprisingly useful out of their pouch.

“BlackJack?” You sound unusually keen to play, Daryl. You haven’t spent much of your life ‘playing’, have you?

That is a  _ crying  _ shame and now I’m making it a personal mission to get you to play more; loosen up a little when our lives aren’t in immediate danger.

I was about to nod before Carl asked, “What’s Blackjack?”

I paused. We both looked at each other for a long second, having a mental conversation and I finally pressed my lips into a tight line.

Normally I wouldn’t have a problem with teaching him how to play BlackJack, it’s just… his parents are  _ right _ there. And I don’t know how they feel about gambling and I’m not comfortable finding out and I don’t have the best experience with gambling around kids and—

Daryl finally sighed; almost rolling his eyes but giving in. “Nothin’. You know how to play Go Fish?”

Daryl leaned forward, clearing a space in the center of the three of us.

Carl lit up like a cracked glow stick. “We played in class a lot and I never lost.”

A wicked smile came to my face as I shuffled, throwing in a little extra flare. “First time for everything, Kiddo.”


	125. Chapter 125

What started as Go Fish, has somehow turned into an amalgamation of like 9 other games and I’m not sure any of us really even know what we’re doing anymore.

I lost track of the rules like an hour ago and I’m not sure Daryl or Carl  _ ever  _ had them straight in their heads.

Carl’s been trying to stay awake for awhile now though, and Daryl looks beat.

But both of them are trying to stay awake for me.

I never thought I’d call someone sweet before, much less two people but I have no other word for it.

I’m ok now though.

Seriously! My ribs didn’t even hurt this time when I woke up(that I noticed; I mean, I was a little  _ busy  _ so...).

But it’s time for them to sleep.

“Dang it.” Carl dropped his cards. “I’m out.”

“Me too.” Daryl grumbled, tossing his in the middle.

“Me three.” I sighed, dropping mine as well.

“That’s the third time nobody’s won.”

“I think we created a game that’s impossible to beat.”

“The boss fight.” I nodded.

“What else is there to do?” Carl yawned, covering his mouth with his Cheeto stained fingers.

I am  _ so _ glad his parents aren’t awake. We let him eat so much junk food tonight. Lori’s gonna kill us if she finds out.

“Sleep.” Daryl said pointedly.

“But I’m not tired.”

You know, that would be so cliche if kids didn’t actually say it so often. Reminds me of the littler kids at the children’s shelter when they were afraid to sleep.

I sighed and grabbed a book almost automatically. I can’t believe that after more than 20 years, that’s still programmed into my head when a kid says “I’m not tired”.

The moment I started reading out loud, in a soft low voice so we don’t disturb the others, both boys looked at me like I just broke.

But neither of them said a word, even though they look like they want to.

Instead, they just listened. Like those kids I used to know.

I’m not even sure what this book is about but judging from the cover, I’d say it’s a medieval fantasy. Knights and dragons, and magic. Good, because I love magic and I have a soft spot for warring kingdom type stuff. Like Arthur & Merlin and the knights of the round table, etc.

Carl laid down almost from the start of the book. It was roughly one chapter in that Daryl also got more comfortable and laid back, hands behind his head, supporting it.

Two long chapters later and Carl was breathing evenly, eyes closed, but I don’t think he’s asleep yet.

Daryl I can tell is just resting his eyes.

One more long chapter and Carl was definitely asleep, and to my surprise, Daryl is too.

I didn’t notice he was actually asleep until my voice got a little raw and I stopped to take a drink and he was still for a few moments before he shifted but didn’t stir.

I never thought he’d be the type to fall asleep to someone’s voice, but I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me.

I don’t know — I don’t  _ think  _ he was ever in the system, but he sure does behave like it sometimes.

I wonder why the muted sound of someone’s voice is so comforting?

I mean it never helped me having someone talk while I’m falling asleep, but sometimes the older kids would hum — after taking away the book I was reading — and that never failed.

I finally put the book down and stood up, gently cracking my back and knees, and ankles before I got up and went to the window to sit where Randall had been earlier.

It still surprises me just how dark the night can be but in the winter, it’s brighter for some reason. Summertime is when it’s at its darkest.

Sometimes it’s almost like the cold  _ glows _ .

But at least you can still see the stars.

I stared up, breathing deep. The cold is gonna make things harder but for the moment at least, it feels nice; cooling my too warm skin. Something tells me I won’t be so thankful for it later.

I raised my knee up, resting my elbow on it and plopping my chin into my hand, looking down at the pavement just in front of the shop’s front doors.

It’s gonna be hard to move when it starts snowing. In the cars or on foot.

I should keep my eyes open for a snow plow. I have a vague idea of where to look for a truck with one of those plow attachments on the front, but it works out because we’ll have better luck looking inside houses for winter clothes than shops.

All that will be stocked in stores anymore, is springish-summer attire.

It was like… mid/end of July I think(?) when this started. Hard to believe it’s only been a few months.

My eyes drifted from the window to the others around the room. Most half or fully curled up. If only we had more blankets or sleeping bags or something.

You know… I keep thinking up all this stuff we need or should or could be doing but, maybe I should write it down. Make an actual plan.

We don’t have any particular heading anymore either. We’re sort of just drifting in the wind right now.

I got up and kept as quiet as possible — which I’ve been told is quieter than death — and carefully stepped around the group, heading downstairs.

The bottom floor is mighty creeper than upstairs and I can feel the hair on the back of my neck standing up, my muscles tensing a little more.

I should’ve brought a flashlight down with me, but I’m not sure it would really be worth the risk of attracting potential unwanted attention.

Wait a sec.

I smacked myself in the forehead and took the stairs two at a time back up. Which was a  _ mistake _ .

Get just a little more freedom in my movement back and my head immediately assumes I’m all better.

‘ _ This is really getting old. _ ’ With a hand on my side/gut, I headed over to my backpack and carefully dug out my goggles.

I slipped them over my noggin as I got back to the steps and pulled them down.

The world went green and much easier to see as I adjusted them to be comfortable, reaching the bottom of the curved staircase.

I know there was a front desk. There’s gotta be stuff to write with and on up there.

I’m not gonna lie, this place is spooky at night. Not like high school at night spooky, but still.

The quiet isn’t as unnerving as it is in other places. Maybe because it feels like a library and it’s feels more natural for it to be quiet.

I still kept my steps quiet though, I wish I could say it was out of habit right now, but I’m too alert for this light step to be natural, even for me.

It took me a few minutes of searching the front counters before I found some pens in a few different colors, a notepad, a thing of sticky notes, and after spotting a little ‘gift shop’ type of shelving on the far wall with several cool leather-covered notebooks (seriously these things look like ancient Celtic tomes or something. Like they should be grimoires or full of spells and ancient prophecies) I checked out the front windows.

It’s weird seeing no walkers. It puts me on edge and at the same time makes me relieved there’s no threat (that I can see).

I did a sweep of the bottom floor, making sure all the doors and windows are still tightly sealed, before heading back upstairs and taking up a table, starting by designating a few of the notebooks towards certain things like ‘what we need’ and where possibly to find it, ‘things to do’, ‘supplies’, and ‘things to try’.

I can finally get this stuff out of my head and onto paper, where it’ll actually become  _ useful _ , actionable plans instead of just good ideas.

Plus, I think this might help take some of the burden off of Rick.

He was pretty quiet all evening and pretty tense. He doesn’t have a plan of what to do or where to go next and I don’t blame him. It shouldn’t be all up to him, and he’s got a lot to think about and process as is.

And besides, surviving is what I do best.


	126. Chapter 126

I decided to slip that bedtime book into my backpack, for a rainy day, and take another look around the shelves just in case there’s anything good.

It’s nice actually, to get to browse a little. I missed books more than I realized.

Dale kept a few books in the RV. They weren’t very good, but it was better than nothing. I think it’d be a good idea to carry that on.

Books might just provide the world-escape stress relieving a few of us desperately need.

A smile pulled at the corners of my lips. Carl looked so...engaged earlier when I was reading. Even when I looked at him, it was like he wasn’t there, but in the world of the other story.

Daryl was quiet as always, but I’ve known him long enough now to know that he doesn’t usually listen  _ that  _ intently.

I sighed contently for the first time it what feels like forever; glancing around the room at all of my group.  _ My _ group.

A gentle, fond smile pulled up my lips while I wandered. It’s weird how safe I feel here.

Surrounded by our sleepy little pack and buried deep in the rows of books.

I imagine this is how Daryl feels in the woods. Surrounded by the green and brown of the forest, the smell of ionized rain (hands down one of my favorite smells), the birds and little noises bringing a sense of peace.

That makes me really wanna read a fantasy book. With any luck, I’ll be able to find something like The Wheel of Time, or Lord of the Rings, The Candy Shop War, Harry Potter, comic books —  _ Ooooo _ it’d be  _ awesome  _ if I could find some Marvel comics.

I think Glenn & Carl might enjoy those too.  _ Ohh that is so happening now. _ I nodded to myself.

I turned back to the shelves, just barely noticing that I’d been looking out the window at the grey sky lining just above the trees. There’ll probably be a storm soon.

I can already smell it, even indoors. The sound of trees rustling in the wind drifting through the thin glass panes of the dirty windows.

I haven’t heard any thunder yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it happened any minute now.

It’s hard to read some of these titles in the dark, but thankfully most books in this age have shimmery lettering. A play to catch people’s attention to the title but it makes reading them now much easier.

_ ‘What the... _ ’ I pulled a book off the shelf, a pirate ship on the front, the shimmery gold title  _ ‘Pirate insults _ ’ gleaming like the gold of the treasure chest in the bottom corner.

I caught a brief glimpse of the Cheshire cat smile that took over my whole face, in the lettering.

20 minutes later and I made two piles. One stack is fairly small and those are the books that will be coming with me — I’m gonna need to search for a bigger backpack soon; something durable with lots of space but not too thick would be nice, like a military or swiss army, or travel pack — and the second stack of garbage we can burn. Like gossip rags, how to cross stitch, and the worst books of all time; of which shall not be named but I’m sure I’m not the only person out there who can think of a few.

We’ve already got a box of the useful books somewhere in all these supplies, but I picked up one or two informational books just cause I like them. One of them on Marine animals, and the other a human physiology textbook.

What? The human body fascinates me, ok.It’s  _ painful  _ legitimately painful trying to choose. We don’t have a lot of room for stuff like this.

Haaaaa, if I had my own vehicle I’d take more.

I wandered downstairs again to search the bottom floor shelves, and I officially love this store.

I hit the jackpot in the back corner and found 5 Spider-Man comics and 4 X-Men (I absolutely did  _ not _ do a small (wild) happy dance or jump like an excited teenager and knock a few things off a shelf). I found all 4 of the books I wanted. Plus two others.

Granted Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings are popular, but I didn’t think The Wheel of Time would be in a little shop like this. I only found the 4th book but that’s better than nothing. And the 2nd candy shop war — I didn’t even know there  _ was _ a second one but it gives me something to look forward to.

That’s a feeling I didn’t realize how much I needed.

I missed getting excited about the future.

I plopped down by the window again, using my goggles to read. I don’t wanna risk a candle or flashlight this close to the window in this darkness.

I pulled my legs up and by some magic, squeezed myself against the window frame so I don’t fall and flipped open the thick book in my hands, my knees barely giving enough room for my goggles so I can actually read the book.

I’m not gonna say that it’s easy to read like this, but you work with what you got.

My legs went to sleep several times and I repositioned myself a lot, at one point I sat on the table a few few feet from the window so I could still see out of it when I glanced up every few minutes to check outside.

As the hours (I’m assuming) passed, I glanced up every now and then to check around. I moved around a bit, almost always ending up back in the windowsill.

A walker shambled past once or twice but didn’t so much as glance this way.

About 2 quiet hours passed before my head shot up. I pushed my goggles up and blinked, letting my eyes adjust to the dim light. It’s lighter than before even with cloud cover.

That’s gotta mean the sun’s coming up or will be soon.

A few steady breaths later, specks started to hit the glass and within a few seconds, it was being pelted with rain.

A second rumble echoed across the sky as I watched the drops slid down the pane.

This could be a problem.

I thought about snow and cold. I didn’t think about rain.

The cars, buildings, and supply boxes should be ok — all but the cardboard ones. But the rain will make it hard to stay quiet, and staying dry is more concerning.

We don’t have umbrellas or waterproof jackets or anything. Hell we don’t have anything even close to a tarp.

Rain is good for water collection, but we don’t have anything to collect it either.

Buckets or jugs would do the trick, but we’d need something to act as a rain catcher.

I got up and pulled out my notebooks again and started scribbling down ideas, sketching out a few rough designs. I’m not the greatest artist but I do pretty well with shapes and getting ideas across. I had an art class in high school so, I remember the basics.

I’m a little rusty but I feel like an inventor. That character in movies who’s like the planner, or scientist. With all their ideas and engineering, who’s out of their mind but make life a little easier.

I have so many ideas now, I don’t know how many of them are gonna work. Or if we’ll even be able to try them now that we don’t have a safe base camp.

I’m gonna try the ones that I can for now, but others… I might just have to let pass because they won’t be possible drifting like this.

That’s irritating.

But I wanna make life as safe and as easy for us as possible. I don’t want all of us to constantly be worried about how to survive. I want Carl and Randall and Lori and the baby to feel safe. I want don’t want to be constantly afraid.

I leaned my forehead against my knee, staring down the darkness of my leg as the wind splattered rain against the window.

I don’t want to live in constant fear. Not certain whether or not we’ll all have a tomorrow.

I know a certain future isn’t possible — never was. But at the very least, I’d like to be able to sleep at night with some certainty that I’ll wake up in the morning and not have a mountain of things to worry about.

I don’t want the others to live that way either.

And you know what they say. If you have a difficult task, give it to a lazy person, they’ll find a better way.


	127. Chapter 127

Even though the sky is still caked in clouds, it’s definitely morning by now. The rain has let up quite a bit too.

Technically I should’ve woken the others by now, but they all looked so haggard yesterday I don’t want to.

It’s been a stressful time, everyone is still tense and frustrated with each other. So the more they can sleep the better.

We don’t know when the chance to get a good night’s sleep will come again. And we need everyone to play as nice as they can manage right now. That means no tired cranky asses fanning embers that are finally going out.

I don’t even wanna know what Lori & Carl sleeping separately from Rick is gonna start when they all wake up.

Good sleep should be at the top of our priority lists anyway.

We won’t last long if we’re all sleep deprived, stumbling around like walkers.

I sighed, dropping the pencil in hand onto the already well-used notebook.

My forehead hit the page with a soft ‘thump’ as I groaned before freezing. I probably shouldn’t make the same sounds as flesh eating monsters while everyone’s asleep.

I rolled to the side, my cheek smushed my eye shut as the calming aroma of paper drifted through into my nasal cavity.

‘ _ I’m getting way too ahead of myself. _ ’ I watched the rain fall against the window, petering itself out as it has been for the last hour.

I rolled my noggin’ up onto my chin, smashing into an unintentional grumpy face. My eyes traced over all the work I’ve done. The notebook and all these ideas, lists, even a list of things I haven’t had time to think about yet.

They’re good ideas, and the lists are already helping a lot. Just to relieve the clutter in my brain case that’s been knocking around for weeks.

I can’t help it. I like to have a plan and a back up plan. Preferably more than just one or two of each but that starts to get unrealistic after 3 or 4.

But I  _ know _ I’m thinking way beyond our capabilities at present. Hardly anything from the last hour of this, is actually doable right now.

Not on the road — not transport friendly. At least not with what we’ve got. If we had another heavy-duty truck, like I’m positive we need now, we could but without something like that, it’s just not gonna happen any time soon.

I took a deep breath, sitting up while I scrubbed my hands over my face. My palms are a lot rougher than they used to be, it’s almost painful when they drag over my cheeks.

There’s still a few tinsy tiny little scabs here & there from one thing or another. The kind you can pick off no worries because there’s nothing to heal anymore; your body just hasn’t shed the crusted brown clots yet.

‘ _ I should get some gloves. _ ’ I picked at the little marks, most of these I can just scratch off with my fingernails.

A mental sigh range through my head (that sounds vaguely like Rick when he’s 110% done with everything; not sure why, and not gonna look too closely at it) ‘ _ Add it to the list. _ ’

I picked my book scribbler back up and flipped over to the page I’ve been writing that akins to basically a bloody grocery list and went to the next open line (which is two from the bottom now) and wrote ‘Gloves’ under ‘toothbrushes’ and ‘bar soap’.

Another thought struck me — seriously what is my brain right now? A lightning rod? — as I hit my boot on the chair leg in an attempt to reposition my foot and I glanced over at Carl’s feet.

His shoes look like everyone else’s. Worn down, dingy, god knows what stuck to the bottom. And most of them, are  _ sneakers. _

Not running or athletic sneakers. Just normal everyday shoes.

Not great for grip, get worn down easily, get stuff stuck in the grooves until you’ve lost all traction.

I scooted back, taking a look at my own scuffed up boots. Mine are more durable than all of theirs, and I probably won’t need to replace them for awhile.

I sighed again, turning back to my list and wrote ‘shoes’.

My eyes drifted over the page as a whole. The edges curling because of almost every inch of it being written on, and only one thing came to mind.  _ ‘This is massive. _ ’

My face screwed itself into what could easily be a grimace as I scratched behind my ear with my index finger.  _ ‘Maybe I should organize this by priority…’ _

But that would mean rewriting the entire list. ‘ _ I’d rather not _ ’

Oh I know.

I looked over the list and started penning in little stars beside all of the things that should be top of the list. It’s not perfect, but it’ll do.

It only took me a few minutes to prioritize and once I was done, I leaned back, sticking my pen in my mouth last second before stretching back, arms behind my head.

Alright, it’s about time these lazy sods wake up.

I stood up and didn’t give any real thought to any systematic waking. I’m “systematized” out after spending most of the morning having concentrated OCD over planning.

I’m ready to just take it easy for the rest of the day. Not likely, but I can dream.

Daryl’s was the first shoulder I crouched next to, grabbed, and thoughtlessly shook.

He woke up with a snap and I almost fell backwards, nearly crushing Randall’s bad ankle if I hadn’t planted my hands behind me — one in the crinkly wrappers and the other nearly  _ inside  _ someone’s shoe.

I forgot Daryl’s a...should I call it “jump starter”?

Daryl stared at me for a second, blinking the sleep from his eyes, before looking around the room once and finally directing his blue gaze out the windows.

He sat up as I got myself back up, trying my best to remove my hand from the wrapper shrine without making too much noise. Which is  _ pointless  _ now that I think about it, cause I need to wake everyone up anyway.

Daryl rubbed his eyes, pulling one leg up as I did a reverse squat to get back on my feet without crushing anyone and turned to find Rick. He should be up next. Get a minute or so of quiet in before everyone no doubt starts pelting him with questions about what our plan is now.

Frankly I think our plan is the same as it’s always been. Survive to see tomorrow. Actually it may have shifted a little from ‘tomorrow’ to ‘next week’.

I can say with fair certainty that it’s unlikely we’ll die right away, barring catastrophe, surprise attacks, and wicked bad luck. Not planning ahead seems to be the thing that really knocks us down.

We didn’t plan for the RV to break down, we didn’t plan for someone to get lost, we didn’t plan for the farm being compromised, we didn’t plan for herds or for being on the move. We had almost no backup plans and the ones we did have were loose and weak, and fell apart.

We nearly got separated — some of us  _ did _ .

Rick woke much slower than Daryl and with less ready alertness but he got his bearings and realized what was happening much faster. He nodded at me as soon as he moved to sit up and I backed up to give him room and moved on to the next person.

It took about 5 minutes to wake everyone and Carol got started on breakfast almost as soon as she was awake, rubbing her presumably cold hands together in a swift motion to heat them up before taking a look through our food supply to find something for everyone.

It’s not surprising how she’s sort of fallen into the role of food handler/caretaker for the group. She is the most qualified afterall.

Lori is a mother too but… food prep isn’t a skill you magically acquire after you’ve had a kid.

No offense but she can’t even make college student food very well.

I let the kids (Randall, Beth, and Carl) sleep a little longer, seeing as how we’re in no hurry to go anywhere today and Carl was up late with us. They need more sleep than the rest of us.

I’d have woken Randall just like I’d woken Glenn and Maggie, but he’s still injured. The more he sleeps, the faster and better he’ll heal. Trust me.

Daryl motioned at me as soon as I finished and I went to the desk he sat at, pulling myself up onto the table instead of taking the open seat next to it.

Just as well, cause T-Dog took it up as the last remaining seat a minute later; the younger people having to sit on the floor to eat. Not that they seem to mind.

I took my rationed fruit bars and poptart package with a grateful smile as soon as Carol passed it to me.

I ripped into that package like a velociraptor and shoved almost the whole thing in my mouth, of course right before Rick looked at my mess on the study desk.

“What’s all this?” the ex-deputy turned towards me with a raised wildly untamed eyebrow.

I got so distracted with the perfect Dr.Seuss curl in the middle of his right eyebrow that I just blinked, completely forgetting to answer the question.

At least until  _ somebody  _ —  _ lookin’ at you Dixon —  _ elbowed me in the side of the knee and literally struck a nerve, making my knee jerk so hard I almost clacked it against the other one.

“Ipeas.” My hands flew to my mouth in a feeble attempt to save the  _ landslide  _ of crumbs that fell out of my mouth the moment I spoke.

No I did not (involuntarily) scream with a now closed mouth and try to “save” the crumbled half-eaten poptart shards that rained all over my lap.

Daryl and T both leaned away from me the moment it happened, and high-pitched laughter erupted from a couple of people who I distinctly let sleep in.

The two on either side of me looked on in disgust as I tried to get all the little pieces back into my stuffed mouth.

“Jesus — swallow first, vulture. It ain’t gonna run away from ya.” Daryl sassed.

He’s lucky food comes even before retorts. He has a point though.

I swallowed a large enough bite of chewed strawberry poptart to actually hurt my throat as it went down and almost made myself choke on what’s left.

I hit my chest really hard, trying not to spit-take poptart mush all over my lap and at the speed in which everyone moved away from me, you’d think I spontaneously combusted.

“Here,” Glenn tossed a water bottle at me from the other side of the room and I caught it, immediately breaking open the lid and chugged 3 sizeable swallows to get the mass glob down before I could breathe again.

I wiped my water-dripping lip with the back of my hand, as several heads shook.

“One a these days, you’re gonna choke for real if ya don’t learn to slow down a little.” T shook his head, moving back to his own breakfast bar and bag of Flamin’ Hot cheetos.

Meh. I shrugged.

I’d take death by food over pretty much anything else,  _ any  _ day.

At least when I reached Hell (which I am undoubtedly going to; I’ve made way too many bad jokes in my life to have earned a spot in the choir, if ya know what I mean), I’d be able to say I went out doing something I love.

I’m well-aware Daryl’s watching me with a cringe, as I pick every last crumb off my lap and stuff it into my mouth, but you know what they say. Waste not, want not.

I glanced up and caught Rick smiling for a moment.

“At least some things haven’t changed.” Glenn mumbled, sounding relieved enough to almost be heartbreaking before digging back into his own food. A fond smile on his face until the granola bar was in his mouth.

I’ll take the win. I smiled, doing everyone a courtesy and keeping my mouth closed — as can be — as I squirrel cheek the rest of my food in 30 seconds flat.

I was right about the bombardment of questions but it didn’t start until  _ after  _ breakfast. And interrupted Rick from where he’s going through my little midnight projects. Though it looks like he’s just trying to decipher what’s what.

“So... what now?” Glenn kicked it off, finally asking the thing that’s no doubt been burning everyone’s minds since they woke up.

I admit, I’ll feel a lot better after knowing whether or not Rick  _ has _ a plan. Part of me is praying he does, but the more realistic side of me is thinking probably not.

Rick looked over from all my notes, turning in his seat slightly as he looked around at all the waiting gazes in the room, lingering on a few here or there. Notably Hershel, T’s, Daryl, and finally came to a stop with mine.

We stared at each other in silence for a few long seconds and I may or may not have started to sweat a little.

I feel like he’s trying to have a mental conversation with me, but at the same time not…???

Rick finally sat back, rubbing his finger over his chin, the way a lot of people do when they’re thinking about how to word something. At least that’s what It always looks like to me.

He glanced back at my notes before picking one up — my ‘needs’ list — and looking back at me.

“Eve’s got the right idea here. We need to focus on getting the essentials first.”

“How are we gonna do that?” Everyone looked at Glenn, where he’s sat next to Maggie, knees up and arms around them, loosely holding them together. “We don’t even know where we are, much less where to find things.”

“Then that’s where we start.” Hershel spoke up in a tired, old voice. Yes it legitimately sounds old. Worn down, somehow calm and focused, and certain.

My muscles actually relaxed a little hearing it. Somehow it just makes it sound like everything’s gonna be ok.

Rick nodded firmly, standing up and relief flooded my anxious buzzing system at his stance. Familiar and telling of a plan forming — if not already there — in his head.

“We start by figuring out where we are.”


	128. Chapter 128

**2 Weeks Later**

“This is it?” Glenn asked as soon as he got out of the pastel lime green car that honestly makes me a little nervous about how easy it is to see.

I shut the back door behind me, pointing to the two-car garage that houses a black pickup truck I saw yesterday after we found storage units nearby to stay in. Daryl and I went out hunting and found this house.

The truck isn’t the  _ exact  _ thing I had in mind for a heavy hauling vehicle. The gas mileage is what most concerns me for a truck this big.

It’s a twin cab with a bed that would fit a small elephant if it was  _ laying down  _ on it’s side _ .  _ But it has a snow plow hitch on the front.

I’ve been keeping my eyes sharp — even going out of my way to find one of these, and this is the first one I’ve seen.

Figures it would be in a place where there’s like a half mile long driveway to a secluded property, where they probably had to plow their own driveway.

I don’t know much about trucks, but I had a neighbor with a similar model, and I know this one uses diesel, which will be far easier to find than normal gas. Not that many vehicles out there use diesel.

The only drawback is, it uses a lot of it. Which means we (Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, and I) need to double back to that station on our way into this little town, where they had a toppled stack of gas cans all over the doorway, holding it open.

I’m not crazy about going back there, it looked eerie. Like something serious went down not too long ago but if they weren’t just sitting there in the doorway, I’d be more resistant.

Daryl and Maggie came around the other side of the car, standing on either side of me.

“Alright, how we gon’ do this?” I followed Daryl’s gaze to the house window and to the reason we didn’t just use this bad boy to get back yesterday night (when we cut it too close to dark for comfort; not our fault those disgusting units are like a maze).

“Jesus,” Glenn gripped his hooked machete a little tighter, staring through the dirty windows of the tan two-story house — which doesn’t look all that big actually until you count the windows and realize there’s gotta be like 9 rooms in this place, not counting main ones like the kitchen or living room.

On the other side of the glass, close to 8 walkers are wandering around, two of them pushing against the windows but their eyes must not be that great cause they don’t seem anymore riled up with our presence than they were yesterday, when Daryl & I creeped out of the bushes.

“We opened the back door yesterday and let most of em out, but a few of em are still wanderin’ around in there.” Daryl narrowed his eyes a little, leaning forward on his front leg to try and see inside a little better.

“How are we supposed to get the truck outta there without drawing them to us?” Maggie asked as I glanced around, making sure we don’t get snuck up on.

All eyes turned to Glenn and I, as we spent last night strategizing how we could get the truck out without walking into a herd that’s decided to have a house party. My guess is, they must’ve chased something inside and it got trapped, eaten, and the doors must’ve close somehow so the walkers were the ones who got trapped inside.

“Alright, here’s the plan.” Glenn turned to face us. “Maggie, you and I are gonna draw the walkers to that end of the house.” He pointed with his weapon to the far right end. “While Daryl boosts Eve through the window on the side of the garage. Once inside, she’s gonna unlock the side door and let you in, one person providing cover while the other finds the keys, or hotwires the truck if you can’t.”

“What if things go south?” Maggie asked, squinting in the late morning sun.

“We get out. Try somethin’ else later.” Daryl said, leaving no room for argument. He really hasn’t been playin’ since the highway when he almost ran me over after I came this close to being left behind.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? A lot could go wrong.” Maggie shifted on her feet, pulling her dark sleeved jacket around herself a little tighter and zipping it up a little higher. Speaking of which.

“This is the only one we’ve seen so far.” Glenn reminded.

I zipped my jacket up, pulling my hair back and wrapping the tie as many times as it’ll go. My skin prickled at the sudden cold on my bar skin, almost making a shiver run down my spine.

“We don’ gotta choice. We got lucky with that first snow bein’ light as it was. We can’t afford not to have at least one vehicle that can clear a path.” Daryl loaded his crossbow, making sure it was ready to go.

Glenn glanced around behind us, all 4 of us on high alert knowing that back door is open and there could be stragglers wandering all around this area.

Maggie still looks uneasy but nodded. “But wait, how are we gonna make enough noise to draw this whole house to that side?  Yer gonna have to open the garage door manually too. It’s gonna make a lot of noise. I don’t think just banging on stuff or shoutin’ is gonna be good enough to cover that. And what if they come out the back door instead, or walkers come outta the woods?”

My tongue poked into my cheek. Agh damnit, I didn’t think about that. I was more focused on figuring out how to get them away so we could get to it.

A thoughtful silence descended, sometimes glancing between each other to have a silent conversation or to just absently study one another to see if someone might be onto something before us.

I did another scan around us before Glenn suddenly snapped his fingers. “We’ll use the car.”

“The car?” Daryl quirked an eyebrow as we all turned.

“We’ll drive it around that side and use the horn. It’s loud, and we’ll be protected and if it gets too hairy, we’ll drive through the back field and draw as many of them away as we can.”

I don’t like making last minute adjustments to plans because we haven’t had time to think about possible consequences but we gotta get this done. We don’t have the luxury of taking our own sweet time to think of a more clever/safer way to do this.

I nodded and we split into two teams, the two of them climbing back into the car.

“Ey,” Daryl stopped Maggie from closing the passenger door. “As soon as ya hear another horn, get outta dodge.”

The couple nodded and I pulled out my knives. The car door closed and I followed just next to Daryl in a light jog over the patchy half-dead, half dy _ ing _ lawn while they swung the car around and drove to the other side.

Daryl reached the open, cob-web covered high window about 3 feet away from the door I’ll be unlocking. If only that door had a window and didn’t have one of those fancy security locks on the handle or we could just break it.

He scanned the treeline that’ll be at our backs in a second, while I sheathed my knives and picked up the old rake — which I accidentally knocked over yesterday during our perimeter scout — and used it to clear away at least  _ some _ of those webs.

A weird shiver jolted my body at the thought of just jumping straight through those and the possibility of there still being something living in them.

I wouldn’t say I’m afraid of spiders, but I’m afraid of spiders being  _ on me _ . I’d rather  _ not _ be distracted by that while I’ve gotta be stealthy behind enemy lines.

Daryl made a breathy noise and I glanced at him, shaking his head.

He caught my eyes and  _ yes _ I stuck my tongue out at him, and no it wasn’t so much to be a lil’ shit and more to basically say ‘shut up you would too I ain’t crawling through spider webs  _ on purpose _ unless you can promise me superpowers’.

‘ _ Dude, If I had Peter Parker’s powers right now, I’d create the safest safe zone ever by making it so you can only get to it with spidey-strength, and like covering it with a web tunnel so anything that tries to get close will just get stuck and— _ ’

A car horn blasted and I dropped the rake but thankfully plastic rakes falling 4 feet onto grass are not louder than a car horn (which is honking to the tune of — I think — Carol of the Bells but don’t quote me on it).

I grimaced, biting my bottom lip as I looked back at Daryl. He gave me a deadpanned eye roll but shook his head like he  _ expected _ it from me. I take offense to that. I’m not clumsy, really. Things just happen to and around me and I happen to be  _ misfortunate _ sometimes.

Daryl propped his bow up against the painted grey cinder block wall and laced his fingers together in front of him.

I put my hands on his shoulders to steady as I put my left foot into his palms.

He boosted me up, easily — like _way _easier than I expected, I’m pretty sure that I’m not _that _light — and I pushed the edge of the window up higher.

Why they even made windows that open like hatches, I don’t know.

It’s not a big window. Maybe a foot and a half tall and two feet wide.

Small enough that if I don’t turn my shoulders, I won’t be able to fit — and forget about Daryl or any one of the other guys aside from Carl fitting through this.

My knee rested against Daryl’s shoulder for support as I grabbed the ledge and looked through, making sure the coast is clear.

There’s a door into the house directly across from the side door and — oh crap. There’s a shelf in front of this window.

Like a shelf with a crap ton of tools and things on it. This could be a problem.

“What’s wrong?” Daryl asked, keeping his voice low and glanced around to make sure we’re not drawing attention to ourselves.

“Shelf.” I whispered between honks, before reaching in to get a good grip on the ledge of it.

It’s right up against the wall, which is good, and there’s nothing blocking the window itself, but I can’t see how stable the shelf is.

I shook it a little, not as worried about making a tiny bit of noise with Carol of the Bells honk edition covering me.

It didn’t shake a lot, but I guess we’ll see how well it holds 100+ lbs of human adult.

I put my right foot against the brick wall, trying for a little more leverage and relying on my upper arm strength to help me hold on but as soon as I tried to pull myself up, I knew it wasn’t gonna be enough.

My hands can hold me like this but I don’t have enough leverage to get my shoulder through and actually be able to get the rest of me in.

I glanced down at Daryl and he got the message, lifting my foot higher and pushing me upwards. My head bumped the window above me as he got my foot onto his shoulder and my diaphram all of a sudden hit the windowsill as he grabbed my other foot and pushed me.

I hissed under my breath, trying to keep quiet with my now newly refreshed bruises. They were  _ this  _ close to being healed up enough to not matter anymore. Hitting them last week on a staircase railing was my fault, I admit that, but this time it’s on you Dixon.

A growl came from behind me and I barely managed to pull myself through to my hips, seal style, as Daryl’s shoulder and presence underneath me altogether disappeared.

Automatically, I curled my legs up, lifting them as high as I can get away with cause I would very much not like to be grabbed while hanging halfway through a window the size of a chimney.

I scrambled to try and pull myself in further, but this shelf is only a foot big. It’s plenty wide, but it’s barely deep enough to get my torso on with a little help from the thick windowsill.

The room’s empty at least, there’s two cars; including the truck but I’m gonna have to use this shelf like a ladder if I wanna get down from here.

Thankfully the hard part was maneuvering myself to get a leg through the window so I could stand on the second to top shelf and get the rest of me through. It took a little bit of contorting and awkward — painful — work but I did it and managed to climb down without any more trouble.

By the time my feet touched the ground again, I was winded.

I side stepped to the side door and unlocked the deadbolts, pushing it open and Daryl slipped inside; a fresh blood stain on the denim covering his knee and a visible body laying on the rake just over his shoulder.

I didn’t think too much about it though and opted to get to the truck.

I pulled my knives and ran to the open door to the house while Daryl went to the truck.

It was sort of an unspoken decision beforehand because I don’t know how to hotwire a truck and if we can’t find the keys, it’s just easier if he does this part.

I stepped one foot into the kitchen, watching the walkers on the other side of the room trying to bust through the windows like animals in an exhibit and grabbed the shiny steel door handle of this pastel yellow door and pulled it closed as quiet as possible.

Glenn must’ve gotten bored cause the songs changed but I don’t recognize this one.

“Psst”

I looked glanced at Daryl and watched him closing the driver’s door behind him, catching a glimpse of the keys in his hand.

Without an acknowledgement, I went straight to the center of the garage, sheathing my weapons and grabbed the red plastic dangly thing attached to a string.

I pulled it down and got a grip on the garage door before trying to lift it.

The metal dug into my fingers like a drill through the earth but it wasn’t heavy enough I can’t lift it.

I pushed it up and the second it cleared my line of sight, my stomach leapt into my windpipe. Almost eye to ey— open festering  _ chest  _ with the  _ tallest _ walker I’ve ever seen.

My leg swung out without even thinking, aiming for center mass.

It’s arms reached for me, fingertips grazing the apples of my cheeks right as my foot connected with it’s side and the 6’5—  _ something _ walker staggered sideways.

I threw myself to the side without even thinking, running for the truck and pain exploded in both of my shins, the concrete rushing up to meet me.

My hands shot out in front of me saving my face from the concrete floor but buckled and did little except absorb most of the impact.


	129. Chapter 129

The world seemed to speed up and sharpen all at once as a vicious wet growl just behind me had me rolling under the commuter car beside the truck without thinking once again.

I rolled straight out the other side and my legs burned as soon as I flailed onto my feet and into a run, playing ring-a-round-the-frickin-rosy with a walker that could probably just reach over the top of the car and grab me if it were smart enough. It only bought me a few feet of a head start though.

_ ‘I’m not gonna have enough time to open the door. _ ’

I ran like the road runner and dove (in probably the  _ coolest  _ flip ever) into the bed of the truck and the moment I cleared the edge, my whole body slammed into the back gate as the truck peeled out, leaving the garage and the house in the dust.

I held my mouth, my front teeth zinging into my brain and all the way down to my toes as I grabbed the edge and pulled myself to sit up.

The trees whooshed by on either side of the matted dirt road, reflected on the green hood of the car behind us.

I let go of my mouth, hissing at the aching tremble in my shins, the burning in my  _ bones. _

Slapping my palms against the black truck bed, my kneecaps ground into it as I crawled my way towards the front passenger side.

I reached around and knocked on the window and the truck immediately began to slow down followed by the glass disappearing into the door.

Using the edge and with a quiet hiss, I got to my feet — keeping hold of the side and moving one hand to the roof to keep me steady — and maneuvered my leg through the window.

‘ _ This is a lot harder than it looks on TV. _ ’ It took a minute and involved sitting on the window edge before I was able to get both my legs in and limbo the rest of me into the front passenger seat of the twin cab.

‘ _ Ooo spacious. _ ’ I immediately got comfy in the roomy leather seats, only a slight layer of dust covering most of the interior.

Whoever owned this truck, loved it. That much is obvious. It was probably their pride and joy.

“What happened? Let me see.” Daryl reached over, taking his eyes off the road every other second.

My face scrunched as I pulled my legs up, trying not to make it seem like it hurts as much as it does as I braced my feet on the flat dashboard and — carefully — rolled up the ends of my jeans.

Dark purple and yellow-ish green surrounded wicked indents on both of my poor shins. You can see the latches and everything.

It wouldn’t hurt so bad if the throbbing wasn’t radiating pain all the way up my legs.

“What the Hell is that?” Daryl grabbed my knee a lot less aggressively than the speed in which his hand came towards it, suggested it was gonna be, and for that I’m grateful because I can’t feel anything below his hand aside from my aching bones on  _ either  _ leg.

“Toolbox.” I grumbled, just now taking notice of how my jaw is trying to turn my molars to bone dust.

“Jesus Christ, Eve.” Daryl breathed, voice like gravel but unsurprised.

My gut tightened, even though it really wasn’t my fault this time.

There’s no way I could have known that walker was right outside the door, or that it would be so big — I couldn’t even  _ reach _ it’s head even if I’d had my knife in hand when I reacted.

We’ve been trying to find safer ways to do things, Glenn and I brainstorm every few days — usually after or for an event, like today — but testing them is the real danger. Cause if they don’t work or if something bizarre happens, anything we didn’t anticipate could give us a new grave.

“What’s wrong?”

I looked at Daryl in confusion.

“Yer scowlin’.”

Was I?

I sighed, putting my feet back on the floor and turned my scowl onto myself through the side mirror.

“Just… frustrated.” I pulled my knee up, letting it rest against the door.

“Feel better if ya say it.” Daryl leaned against his own door, chewing on his thumbnail. That’s disgusting. Doesn’t he remember where his hands have been today? Cause he had my shoe in his hands earlier, and I  _ know _ some of the crap I’ve traipsed through that’s probably still there.

“Me? Talk?”

“Don’t seem to have a problem when it’s just the two of us.” Daryl shrugged, motioning between us.

_ ‘Touche _ ’ I shrugged, moving to pick at a loose thread on my knee. Well, at least the end is good for one thing: authentically ripped jeans.

“I’m tired of this.”

Daryl looked at me for longer than he probably should have, after he pulled out onto the road at the end of the long driveway.

“Tired of simple things being really dangerous.” I pulled my hair tie out, letting the wind from the open window whip it around.

“What do you want?” Hm. I expected him to say something like… I don’t know what I expected. It just wasn’t for him to actually sound curious.

I sat up a little more. “I wanna find a way to make it— this, safer. Less risky.”

“How? Ya got any ideas?”

“Work in progress.” I sagged against the seat again.

“But at least today worked out. I got my new truck.” I pet the dash.

“ _ Yer _ new truck?”

“Yes, Daryl.” I looked directly at him. “ _ My _ new truck.”

Don’t fight me on this, Dixon. You’ve got your brother’s bike. This is  _ my  _ baby and I ain’t lettin’ go of it so easy.


	130. Chapter 130

My breath misted in big clouds of white dry vapor as I breathed into my hands and rapidly rubbed them together like I’m lighting an imaginary fire.

We got my beauty just in time.

Daryl shifted next to me, pulling his jacket tighter as we both sat up top, watching over our little camp like guardian angels.

The car heaters are great but we don’t have the resources to run them all night, so pulling off the road down a little service street (we checked) and setting up a little camp, semi-sealed in by the cars so we could light a fire was the best option.

I don’t mind camping, but when it’s colder than a yeti’s eyelashes it’s not my favorite thing in the world.

We need to find a place to stay through the winter. It’s just barely started snowing and if it gets any colder than this, we’ll freeze to death.

The storage units would’ve been safe but they were dirtier than a pig’s pen and the others all got itchy feet stayin’ there.

I’d take an enclosed unit over the bare winded cold though.

A shiver wracked through me and I pulled the blanket Lori gave me 10 minutes ago tight around myself. I scooted closer to Daryl and stretched my arm out.

He looked at me as I wrapped half of it around him.

‘ _ I don’t give a mermaid’s golden belly button if he thinks it’s awkward. It’s colder than an abominable snowman’s left foot. _ ’ 

Daryl let me do as I pleased for once and we must look like two fluffy perched birds on a telephone wire bracing from this cold.

I tugged my ugly zig-zag striped yellow & blue winter hat down farther over my ears and snuggled down into my new spot, three inches to the right from my previous one, regripping my gun in my hand.

Daryl laughed at me so hard he would’ve thrown out his back if he were 10 years older when he found this monstrosity in some glove box when we stopped to get the truck some extra gas cans of fuel yesterday.

I will get him back though. I’m lookin’ for a nice  _ bright  _ Barbie pink for him. I don’t care if it’s a hat, gloves, a scarf, one sock, whatever. So long as it’s an amazing shade of princess pink. And I’m going to make sure he wears it at least once.

I turned a little, glancing over my shoulder at Randall & T on the opposite side of the ring of cars, on the roof of the old red truck with the covered bed. Both of them look like marshmallows bundled up in their own winter coats and wrapped in blankets.

Daryl was stubborn (when isn’t he) and refused a blanket before when they were offered, but tough.

I’m a wimp when it comes to  _ freezing temperatures _ and I swear on Abraham Lincoln’s beard, he is a human space heater.

It’s not my fault and I take no responsibility for almost gluing my entire right side to his.

“Feels like breathin’ ice cubes out ‘ere.” Daryl shifted, pulling his shoulders almost up to his ears. His bent knees shifted so his foot is a little farther in front of mine which are practically collapsing my chest cavity with how tight I’ve pulled them into myself.

I’ve got like 4 layers on including a long sleeve, sweatshirt,  _ and  _ a winter coat that’s just a little too big for me. There’s a fire at my back, and Daryl against my side, and it’s  _ still _ too cold.

I looked out at the twilight hour forest, giving me serious Forbidden Forest vibes.

“The temperature’s getting dangerous.” I barely realized I muttered it aloud, through my borderline blue lips.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t get any lower.” Rick climbed up on the hood to my left, looking out at the forest. “We can’t afford to move unless we have to at this hour.”

I hummed in agreement, shivering again and tried to sink deeper into the warmth, pulling my knees tighter into my chest and the blanket as far around me without pulling any away from Daryl as possible.

The modern age has been spoiled with the ability to condition our in-shelter environments down to the degree. We’ve forgotten how to handle ourselves in extreme conditions.

“Here.” Ricked leaned over, putting one foot above the windshield to brace as he held something wrapped in a red cloth out to me. “Take this. It’ll help keep you warm.”

Wow, that sounded like something out of a video game.  _ ‘It’s dangerous out there. Take this. _ ’

I unwrapped my hand only as far as I possibly needed to, to reach for it and almost slammed my wrist into the hood when he let it go.

What is this thing, a piece of the street!?

I hefted it into my lap and immediately melted over it. Snuggling it like a heated teddy bear.

Rick chuckled and Daryl quirked a brow at me.

“Haha” T-Dog laughed from the other side of the circle. “I can almost hear ya purring from here Shadow Cat.”

I flipped him the bird without care as I snuggled the insanely warm rock (more like boulder) in my lap, trying to wrap myself around it and get as many points of contact as possible as it was swallowed into the darkness of my half-blanket shield.

Daryl reached across me, almost bumping the scruff of his chin against my forehead but I couldn’t care less, and pulled another rock

‘_How was this magic performed?_ _Which one of you is the wizard hiding in plain sight!?’_ ooo, why did that sound like a comedian in my head?

Hot rocks though, that was brilliant.

The heat’s leaving pretty quickly though. My core is warmer, but this isn’t anything more than a last resort preventative. Unless you could keep the rock warm somehow. Maybe if you heated one or two while using another.

“Tch” Daryl scoffed and I looked at him shaking his head. “I can’t believe yer brains still workin’ right now.”

_ Mind reader! _

I cuddled up to my rock a little more, unable to resist closing my eyes and just enjoying the small bit of warmth.

This rock smells like warm mud.


	131. Chapter 131

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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I heard a chuckle behind me and turned a little, still clutching my rock and raised an eyebrow at Glenn who’s snickering.

“You two sure look cozy.” Mischief gleamed off Glenn’s dark firelit eyes.

Daryl and I looked at each other but one look at his face tells me he’s got no idea what Glenn’s talking about either.

I shrugged and turned back to watch, ignoring the other quiet snickers behind us.

“One more hour, then rotate until the morning shift.” Rick reminded before climbing down and going back to the fire.

We did exactly that with not much happening. Just staring out at the quiet snow covered night woods. Over the hour people turned in, taking their places in the cars to protect from the cold.

It’s like sleeping in an airplane seat if you can’t lean the seat back but thankfully Daryl & I get to share my spacious new ride. I seriously love this truck. It makes me almost glad that the apocalypse happened because I never would’ve been able to afford a 60-100,000 dollar ride before.

The change of guard finally came when my fingernails feel like I could peel them off and not feel a thing.

Daryl got down first, I tucked the blanket around Maggie nice and snug, giving her a pat on the head. She smiled at me and gave my arm a little push before I turned and slid down the windshield; freezing my backside more than it already was.

Even with my awesome-grip boots the hood’s slippery. I took Daryl’s outstretched hand from beside the truck and took the plunge of bracing my other hand on the metal as I hopped down.

My boots hit the thin layer of slush built up inside our little protective circle, sloshing it out from under my step as I moved aside, letting go of Daryl’s hand — I don’t know by what cosmic _ powers _ it isn’t a popsicle like mine but ahem, _ share with the class, please _.

He opened the truck door and motioned for me to climb through first, since the other door is on the outside of the circle and I would have had to climb off the other side of the room to get to it.

I gave a brief smile, nodding as thanks before climbing up and used these mile-long legs of mine to climb over the center.

Cold does not lend well to agility. I bumped my head on the ceiling _ and _almost stepped wrong once I actually got my foot over but as soon as I dropped into the plush leather passenger seat I toed my shoes off and pulled my legs up.

Daryl climbed in and closed the door with as little noise as possible, while I twisted my upper body into the center to get into the backseat and shuffle around some stuff for the sleeping bags.

Daryl’s was easy to grab and pass to him, but I had to wrestle mine from under a heavy plastic bin with my books in it.

Something bumped my hip and I twisted, thinking Daryl needed something but he just muttered “Sorry” and finished unzipping his sleeping back to lay over himself like a blanket instead. Crazy huntsman.

I finally got mine and slid back into the front seat. Unlike Mr.Furnace over there, I wiggled & shimmied my way into my sleeping bag while Daryl leaned his seat back.

I followed suit as soon as the bag was pooling around my waist.

I pressed the door lock button, even though the only door that isn’t was Daryl’s, and I made sure to check each of the doors before burrowing down into my bag like a drowning marshmallow.

I snuggled into myself, trying to stop my shivering.

“Ey” Daryl muttered, patting me and missed my shoulder, getting me in the neck instead. Thankfully it was a soft pat and not like a karate chop.

I shifted until I could get my face out of the bag. It’s dark enough that I can’t see much of his face but he held a tiny white pouch out to me and I dinosaur-armed my hands so I could take it.

As soon as I took it, I legitimately purred. The hand warmer radiating a heat bubble around my hands. It almost burns from how cold my fingers are.

“Next time, don’t wait until ya got icicles for hands.” Daryl tucked my hands back down into my face (I’m sure he didn’t know it was my face) and made himself comfortable again, already settling down to sleep.

My face is a lot warmer than it was a second ago.

Probably the hand warmer.

* * *

I woke up shivering and in the pitch dark. Never a pleasant combination.

My knuckles dug into my eye sockets. I never have been a huge fan of the cold. Chilly I can handle, sometimes even like, but below freezing? Nahh, sorry. That’s not my really jam.

I like strawberry more than blueberry. Ok, that was a stretch. I tried to find the fruit jam joke, but it’s too early for coherency.

There’s like one spot on my head that’s really warm though.

I peeked out of the top of my sleeping bag and almost had a heart attack when I nearly poked my own amber eye out with a stubbled chin.

I’m not oblivious, I know who it is just… I don’t remember falling asleep close enough to bump heads.

I maneuvered myself back without bumping him until I could sit up. The frost on the windows blocks most of the outside from view, and although still cold, it’s warmer inside than it was when we went to sleep.

I wonder if Merle’s/Daryl’s motorcycle is ok? I don’t know that much about motorcycle engines but if they freeze like care engines, that could be pretty bad. I mean, we could always put it the bed of my truck, provided we can find a way to get it there.

I heard a car door outside and looked, glancing at Daryl wrapped up in his sleeping bag blanket before I figured out it was Carol and Hershel moving around outside. Starting a fire by the looks of it.

Today, I need to talk to Rick about finding a place to whole up. We won’t survive long term on the road like this in these temperatures.


	132. Chapter 132

The truck rumbled as I drove semi-slowly, pushing mounds of snow to the sides and clearing a path for the others behind us.

My teeth played with my thumbnail — a bad habit I’ve started picking up, thank you very much  _ Dixon _ — as I followed the road, or at least what I believe is the road.

Thankfully all this snow means it’s harder for walkers to move and makes it easy for us beginner and even non-trackers to tell if anyone else has been through here recently.

There’s like 4-6 inches of snow on the ground, it’d be hard  _ not _ to notice if something — especially a humanoid — had been through.

I can tell you what though, if we didn’t have cars, this would be  _ Hell _ to try and get through. You’d be soaked from mid-shin down in a few minutes and then probably get sick or frostbite on your wet feet.

I shivered and pulled my thumb from my mouth to reach for the heater. It’s up almost all the way so Daryl doesn’t die in the seat next to me but I’m freezing. I don’t know how he can sleep in this cold, and at mid-day too.

It’s bright and freezing, the two conditions under which I can’t sleep.

That’s one thing we don’t have in common. We’re polar opposites in ‘conditions we can’t sleep under’. He can’t sleep when it’s  _ too _ quiet or  _ too _ dark.

We meet in the middle though. Where it’s dark but there are stars and vague silhouettes of what’s around. A cool night with a temperate soft breeze. Dark and a quiet ambiance, but nothing too loud or too soft.

I sank into my leather seat, just thinking about it. My mental imagery going back to the farm. To the field where I just laid in the damp grass, eyes cast up to the stars and nothing but the tops of trees rustling and swaying at the very tips.

Damn what I wouldn’t give for the precious moments of calm we got there.

The group’s gotten a lot closer since winter began but to be honest it gets suffocating. All this time and I’m still not used to being so close with people. Physically at least. I’ve sort of gotten used to having my mind read by this one next to me, but that was bound to happen sooner or later. Less talking I’ll have to do anyway.

Lori and Rick seem to have made copies of my playbook and aren’t speaking very much. Being around those two is  _ awwwwkwaaaard  _ right now.

I don’t do well with that sort of thing.

I kind of tried to act as a buffer of sorts for a little while but I just— I’m the  _ last _ person you wanna come to for a silence filler. So I’ve kind of abandoned Carol and the others to take on that role. And to be honest, I thought I’d feel more guilty about it, but I actually feel  _ more _ guilty about  _ not _ feeling guilty.

Instead, I escape with Daryl into the woods and try to get over my distaste for certain fuzzy creatures with tails that make no sense. It’s not going great.

The silence is just about all that’s keeping me sane with how close we stick now though. We’ve got no choice but to live right on top of each other like this.

You never get more than a few minutes to yourself — and usually that’s just for bathroom breaks.

Speaking of the bathroom, that’s another thing we’ve gotten creative about. Daryl’s never heard of a bath before, but pseudo-sponge baths have became one of my favorite things ever.

Something about just wiping my skin down with a cloth and some water is divine.

I was so tired the other night Beth had to do my neck and arms and things for me because I just couldn’t get my arms to lift high enough. It was nice of her to help me. She’s a sweet kid. She has a good heart. I hope she doesn’t lose it.

Good heart… — didn’t I pick up a locket like that in the forest somewhere? Back at the farm, during the search for Sophia … What did I do with that?

I rubbed my eyebrow, leaning my elbow against the door and glanced in the rear-view at the boxes in the back seat, trying to think.

I’m pretty sure I put it in my pocket when I first found it. I wouldn’t have carried it in my hand. But when I got back, did I put it in my bag or did it stay in my pocket?

It’s entirely possible it fell out at some point, or I dropped it somewhere between then and now.

But that would be a perfect Christmas present for her.

I don’t know why I even started collecting presents for everyone. I just see things every now and then that I think someone will like and grab it, if it isn’t any trouble.

I’ve started to think I should do it more seriously. Just cause everyone’s been kinda down lately, and we don’t really have the luxury of many personal items or things that are  _ ours _ anymore, and I think it’d be nice if we all had at least  _ something _ like that again. Something for us to hold on to, besides just our lives. A sort of reminder of why we live.

I have no idea when Christmas is, but I think as long as it’s before spring, it should be fine, right?

I should be able to find stuff by then.

I’ve already got comics for Carl that I’ve been holding out on. If I can find that necklace then I’ve got Beth covered. I was gonna give Randall this knife swiss army knife I found.

I think I’ll try to get Lori something baby related. Like a rattle or a binkie or a stuffed animal or something. Or maybe I’ll get something that doesn’t have to do with the baby.

I’ll brainstorm the rest later.

I glanced at Daryl in the seat next to me. His temple crammed against the door.

The road is winding still but the trees have been getting thinner. We must be getting close to the next town.

I wonder where we’re gonna stay this time?

Houses might be safer than buildings or businesses. If this town’s big enough we might wanna stick around for awhile and loot it for all the resources we can.

The supplies we’ve got now won’t last much longer. It’s not easy feeding this many consistently when we have to keep moving like this.

It’s dangerous moving from place to place, never sticking around long enough to get our bearings or learn the area.

It’s stressful too. Possibly too stressful.

I hate to say it, but we need to be more animalistic. A wandering pack never knows what or who’s territory it’s wandering into.

There’s a reason animals tend to stay in the same areas for long periods, even if they’re roaming creatures. There’s advantages we can’t afford to ignore anymore about knowing your area.

And I think Rick knows it too.

I know he’s noticed that everyone — Daryl in particular — get very antsy when we’re on the move.

I’ve been a drifter my whole life, I’m used to it. But even I know this is too much.

We need to at least pick an  _ area _ and stick to it until it’s time to move on.

We need to plan more effectively for where we’re gonna go and make sure we’ve got good safety cushions for ourselves. Always take extra supplies, always take precautions, always  _ plan _ to be separated and for things to go as  _ bad  _ as they possibly can and we need to take time to think about the best ways to do things.

The walkers may have no discernible patterns and the situations we’re all put in may be different every time, but there’s only a set number of problems that recur.

Food, water, shelter, getting trapped, needing to get in a place but there being too many walkers nearby or too many unknowns.

We gotta get a handle on this.

We’re always in a rush — walkers aren’t that fast, it just  _ feels  _ like it because we never know exactly what to do when we encounter them.

We need  _ trained  _ ways of doing things. We need to be on the same page and operate as a unit no matter who we’re with. Everybody’s gotta know their job, and be thinking fast on their feet, not just listening for  _ someone _ to shout an idea or an order.

I blew air out of my mouth, scrubbing my head through my hair.

There’s so much to do and we have all the time in the world now, yet every day it feels like none at all.

I just — we  _ need _ to take back some control. We—  _ I _ can’t live at the mercy of so much.

We need to stabilize, even if we’re always moving —  _ especially _ if we’re always moving.

“Ey’” I jumped outta my skin almost swerving the truck as something touched my shoulder.

“ _ Whoa—  _ whoa.” Daryl grabbed the steering wheel, keeping the car on the road.

I stopped the truck as Daryl pat my leg with his free hand. “Let’s switch.”

“I’m good.”

“It’s my turn, move or I’ll pull you outta the seat and wrap you up like a burrito so you can’t escape.”

I stared into blue eyes. ‘ _ He wouldn’t. _ ’

Daryl raised an expectant eyebrow at me. “ _ You wanna find out? _ ”

Without taking my eyes from his, I put the truck in park.

Daryl nodded, satisfied, as I undid my seat belt.

I scooted the seat back as far as it would go and pulled my legs up to do this weird climb-over thing that we’ve been doing to change drivers. Strangely though, when it’s going from me to Daryl, we climb over the center and like switch around. But if it’s Daryl to me, he always gets out and walks around the front of the car instead of climbing over.

“Watch yer head.” Daryl reached above me in a flash, and the top of my head hit his palm instead of the overhead cabin light.

We switched seats and Daryl readjusted it before getting back to driving, leaning his elbow on the center.

“What were ya thinkin’ about so hard?”

That’s a loaded potato.

“Same as usual.” I mustered up an answer, resting my head against my hand and my elbow against the window and pulled my right leg up so I could my foot to the dashboard, practically putting my knee in my armpit.

“You don’t gotta worry so much, ya know.”

I looked at him and he glanced at me for a long second.

“We’re gon’ be ok. All of us. We’ll get the hang of everythang.”

A smile tugged my cheeks up, like an automatic response.

“I don’t know why I believe it when  _ you  _ say that but not my own brain.” I muttered, glancing at the loose string on my knee that my fingers started playing with.

“Sometimes ya just gotta hear it from somebody else.”

I smiled again, letting the string go to lean my cheek back into my palm.


	133. Chapter 133

‘ _ Why do walkers make growling noises? _ ’ I set up the gas stove in the middle of the dusty living room floor.

It’s not like they need to breathe or communicate with each other or anything.

They have no reason to make noise. So why do they?

It’s not like it’s particularly easy to make noise.

Maybe it’s muscle memory? But that would mean they  _ do _ have some type of memory.

Whether or not they know it’s their memory is another story. To them — assuming they remember it the way a person does — it might just seem like a story.

A whisper they once heard, if they even know what whispers are.

I finished setting up the cooking space for Carol, and stood up. The scuffed hardwood floor in desperate need of a wash and a new varnish, creaking beneath my step. Even I would have a hard time not making any noise on this floor.

The door in the kitchen behind me opened, the others filing in with their backpacks and sleeping gear, pausing in the living room to find a spot for the night. I returned some nods and gave a small smile, ruffling Carl’s hair as I passed. He looked up and I jerked my head.

Nodding, he followed me to the door again. His footsteps made more noise than mine on the 3 steps to the frost-clung snowy grass. It’s not even an inch of powder. It looks like someone sprinkled powdered sugar over the blades.

This isn’t a crammed neighborhood we’ve decided to hole up in tonight, and the house has a fence. Dark wood planks lined in an endless fence around the entire house, made even darker by the damp of melting snow.

This is the kinda house I could see myself in, before. A person who enjoys their privacy and the security of a tall fence but not unfriendly in color.

It’s modern and sleek but something homey about it. I like it.

And it’s surrounded by trees. The enormous yard of overgrown grass and the wildflowers of weeds. It’s very open.

I took a slow, long lungful of crisp cold air. My breath coming out in puffs of steam as I blew it from my mouth, and walked to the tan-stone gravel driveway (perfect skipping rocks), to my truck.

Daryl and Hershel stood at the back, Daryl in the bed and Hershel holding a heavy-duty plastic bin, watching him riffle through the stuff in the back.

“It almost feels like we’re moving in. Doesn’t it?” Carl looked up at me.

I smiled, humming in agreement as I dropped my arm around his shoulders. Freaky, since when was he tall enough that my elbow is almost resting on his shoulder instead of my forearm.

It would actually be nice to move in though.

This house is more secure than most of the others I’ve seen in our wandering.

The high fence, the black metal gate that’s tall enough a person couldn’t look over it. T’s & Randall’s perimeter checks confirmed no breaks in the fence. It’s big, 2 floors. Large yard and it’s near the skirts of the town so less walkers.

Only problem I can see is that it might look  _ too _ secure to outside eyes.

If anyone else wanders around here, they might pick this place to set up too. We could end up in a tight spot, defending or fleeing the place.

Still, we  _ need _ to hole up somewhere for at least the coldest part of winter (which we’re on the cusp of), the car heaters aren’t gonna cut it anymore if we can’t run them at night.

Beth and Randall found a small generator in the garage, and I saw the space heater in the corner of the living room the moment I walked in.

This is not a bad place to set up, we won’t find a better one, and I think Rick & Daryl see it too.

We’ve been sharing looks since I suddenly pulled off the road into this places driveway.

It wasn’t easy to hop the fence, they both had to give me a boost onto the decorative stone towers on either side of the sliding gate. I didn’t even know it was metal and not the same dark oak it is on the outside, until I was on this side.

This is the first time we’re bringing stuff inside in a long time.

The cooking stuff I understand, after Glenn, Maggie, and Carol came out of the basement with boxes of food.

One good thing came out of the world wars. Lots and lots of people had food storages.

And whoever lived here seems to have been the cautious type (I like them already).

Other than the shower tiles of pure grandmother tackiness in the 3 bathrooms, it’s comfortable. And comfortable isn’t something we’ve been in weeks, but I’mma be the first to say, it’s never unwelcome.

Carl suddenly slid and out of pure reflex I snatched his arm and the exact second I stepped onto the driveway — as he did — I felt the traction under my boot slide.

My hand flung out, grabbing  _ whatever  _ is closest and my palm exploded in pain, like when you high five someone too hard, smacking down on something round and solid.

I managed to keep us both on our feet and right away, I started laughing; Like a reflex, and the kid’s joined mine a few seconds later.

I got my feet stable again, helping Carl do the same and I released him, finally glancing at what I grabbed and stopped.

The  _ weirdest _ Pagan god Tiki statue thing I’ve ever seen stared me down with soulless stone eyes.

No it did not make me shiver. It’s  _ cold  _ out here.

It’s not even like one thing — it’s like someone took 9 different statues from different god-worshipping practices and shoved them all together into one horrific rock.

‘ _ Saved by a Pagan (???) god. Mmm … not sure how I feel about owin’ those guys a favor. _ ’

I removed my hand slowly, really doing my best not to imagine it trying to bite me if I make any sudden move. If I all but ran the rest of the way to my truck, careful (sort of) of more ice patches, that’s my business.

I opened the backseat door and stood on the outside foothold most trucks have while I reached over the seats to pull my & Daryl’s backpacks out.

After getting them free, I put them in the front seat, out of the way, while I dug for the sleeping bags which for some ungodly reason are buried on the floor behind the driver’s seat; which of course, is on the  _ other  _ side of the car.

I jerked them free and finally turned to pass them to Carl, who had his arms out the moment I twisted around.

I returned Hershel’s smile behind Carl as he walked past us, to the house, and waited until the kid had a good hold of one to pass the other.

Once he had both, I motioned to the house but caught his shoulder first.

“What?” He looked at me with curious little questioning brown eyes, that aren’t as little as they used to be. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hit a growth spurt soon. Oh it’s gonna be a  _ weeeird _ day when he starts turning from a little person into a big person.

With two fingers, I pointed to my eyes and then the icy patch where the both of us almost the worst figure skaters of all time, who needed (questionable) divine intervention to stop us.

Little goblin snack actually rolled his eyes at me. “I’ll be careful. You worry too much.”

My jaw dropped.

Oh. my.  _ God _ .

He did not just pull a bratty teenager voice that’s  _ reserved  _ for nagging parents.

You little—

I lunged at him and he must’ve seen it coming because he shrieked, running for it and dashing over the front lawn instead of the driveway, all the way to the porch.

‘ _ That’s what I thought. _ ’ I watched with a smirk, trying not to compare him to a rabbit as he bounded away as fast as his little legs can carry him.

You’re still a 100 levels too green to take me on that front,  _ squirt.  _ I grew up with kids who would eat teens with tactics like that for breakfast.

Shaking my head, I let my smile fade naturally as I got back up and reached for the backpacks.

“That everythang?” Daryl asked behind me.

I nodded, getting both straps over one shoulder, stepping down from the truck.

I told Carl to be careful. I should’ve taken my own advice.

My foot slid out from underneath me and just like before my hand flung out. My palm smacked against the edge of the car door just barely too late and slid right off the frigid metal.

Daryl grabbed my arm just as I had Carl’s but I’m not as small.

My foot slid right into his ankle, knocking it out from under him like a bowling pin.

My stomach soured, knowing the impact was coming and there’s  _ nothing _ I can do about it. My whole body went into pure reflex mode, trying to minimize the damage, right before my back hit the rocks. But it’s not my back I’m worried about.

Call me crazy, but 160+ lbs of muscled Dixon about to crush me is of far greater concern than the ground (and not just because I’ve had far nastier falls).

My hands abandoned the effort to save myself from the ground, and went straight to Daryl’s stomach at the same time his hand left my arm — his instinct most likely prioritizing catching himself. My fingers made contact barely half a second before my elbows slammed into the ground and absorbed enough impact to rattle all the bones from my shoulder down.

In retrospect, I should’ve been more concerned about my head.

Something moved behind my head right before my skull cracked against the ground.

The one thing I didn’t anticipate was Daryl catching himself on his elbow, not his hand.

I blinked. Untrimmed scruff tickling my face while the pain in my elbows was completely ignored. While my eyes are stuck, unblinking and wide, and almost watering from the cold air stabbing them; staring down blue eyes closer than ever, and so wide I can see my reflection like a photo.

And my struggling-to-comprehend brain broke with  _ one  _ computation of a single sensation.

My lips are warm ...


	134. Chapter 134

**3rd Person POV**

Daryl was up so fast you’d think he’d fallen on hot coals, backpedaling more than 3 feet and refused to look anywhere except the frostbitten white & green front lawn.

“Sorry,” It came out gruff and strangled and he cleared his throat the second after it left his mouth. He hasn’t been this stiff since Merle was still with them. Thank god it only sounded like someone’s hand is wrapped around his throat and not a prepubescent teenager.

Eve’s brain finally got a grip and she sat up, a little too fast. All the aches and stinging and shooting pains made a hostile takeover of her awareness and she hissed, sitting up with hand on her elbow.

You’d think she’d be used to this sort of pain by now. As stealthy as she is, her gracefulness has taken a dive ever since she had to start worrying about being eaten alive or being the one to do the eating if she gets so much as a scratch.

Eve cleared her throat this time. The crisp air stinging it straight after as she breathed in. “t’s fine. It—it wasn’t on purpose.”

Stiff, awkward silence doesn’t suit them but that’s exactly what enveloped the two.

A single second felt like a lifetime and the tension built over several until Eve finally couldn’t handle it anymore. The itch to run burned her legs and her stomach like a heating pad that’s been turned up too high.

“We should — get inside.”

“‘ll be dark soon.” Daryl agreed too quickly but can finally breathe again instead of trying to stand as still as humanly possible without even realizing he was doing it.

Neither thought too much about it before Daryl’s stuck his hand out, out of habit, and Eve took it — also out of habit — to stand up before they all but speed walked inside.

Eve preoccupied herself almost the second she walked into the living room, trying not to think too much (hardest thing in the universe), and Daryl took the dark steps across from the front door two at a time. He didn’t even think about what he’s gonna do once he’s up there, so long as it’s by himself, it doesn’t matter.

Eve tried to keep her hands busy but it isn’t working.

This isn’t something she  _ ever _ thought she’d have to deal with.

_ ‘It’s fine. Don’t overthink it.’  _ Eve didn’t even know what she was doing, it was just a bunch of little tasks and busy work.  _ ‘It was just an accident. There’s no reason to freak out. It’s not like it had any meaning that I need to find. It doesn’t change anything. Will it? God I hope not. I can’t handle awkward — I don’t do well with awkward. _ ’

* * *

‘ _ I can’t take this. _ ’ Eve stood up and made a beeline for Glenn in the corner. Where he was crouched over a bag, digging through it.

She walked up behind him and grabbed his shoulder. He spun on his toes to look at her.

“Hey,” Glenn’s brow furrowed. “You ok? You look kinda — shaky.”

“I need to talk to you. Right now.”

Glenn stood up, “Ok, uh… let’s go,” He didn’t even get to finish his sentence before Eve was almost out the door.

Glenn hurried after her, shooting Maggie a confused shrug when she raised a brow at him from across the other room before he slipped out and caught sight of Eve waiting — impatiently — near the corner of the house.

She ducked around the corner the second he started towards her and he started to panic.

It’s not like Eve to be so shaken up, it does  _ not _ sit well with him. Did she find something? See something? Are they in danger?

He turned the corner fast, almost expecting to see her with blades in hand glinting off the bright moonlight tonight. Thanks to the snow on the ground they can actually see out here even though the sun went down hours ago.

His gut churned in even more unsettlement, watching Eve pace a hole in the snow.

“What’s wrong?” Glenn glanced around, trying to keep his cool but a cold sweat has already started to collect on his neck.

Eve took a deep breath. “I need your help.”

“Yeah, of course. Whatever you need — well not  _ whatever _ but— you get my point. What is it?”

Eve took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down before recounting what happened earlier.

“Wait —  _ you guys kissed!?! _ ” Glenn’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his skull.

“Yes. What do I do?” Eve tried to summon her patience but her teeth sinking into her bottom lip and her boots that’s almost soaked through by the snow, are making it a bit difficult.

“What? What do you mean?” Glenn’s confused now. “I thought you two liked each other.”

“What?” Eve looked at him like he just spoke a different language.

“Oh come on, the way you guys are always together. I figured it was gonna happen sooner or later. Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”

Eve bit her lips and Glenn’s eyebrows hit his hairline.

“ _ You haven’t? _ ”

“Is that something I’m supposed to think about?”  _ ‘Oh god, I’m so far out of my depth with this. _ ’

“Well— no I guess not, but most people do. Even just briefly. But — I’m confused. Why are you freaking out so much?”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“About what?” Glenn’s really trying to understand here, but he really doesn’t.

“About— ...mmmhhhh” Eve motioned wildly, with a frustrated whine. “I don’t know if this changes anything — it was an accident but everything got really awkward really fast and I panicked and—”

“Whoa whoa whoa, calm down. Your gonna give yourself a panic attack.” Glenn grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to stop pacing and to take a few breaths.

It’s surreal seeing her like this. He’s never seen her panic before. To be honest though, he’s trying really hard not to laugh because he can’t stop thinking about a little kid losin’ their shit over something ordinary.

Evelyn Rider. A woman who can put a 6 inch knife through a 200 lbs walking corpse’s head, without so much as blinking, is losing her shit because of an accidental kiss.

_ ‘They’re so awkward, it’s almost endearing. Is it bad some part of me wants to see how Daryl’s taking it? _ ’ Glenn stopped himself from smiling by clearing his throat.

Glenn watched her now swinging the other way, and instead of all that nervous energy coming out in the form of pacing, she’s holding really still.

Glenn grimaced.  _ ‘Maybe I  _ should  _ help her. If I leave it up to them … I don’t even wanna know what would happen if I left the two least communicative people on the  _ planet _ to sort this out all by themselves. _ ’

Glenn braced himself, folding his arms. “Did you like it?”

“What?” Eve looked at him, dumbfounded.

“Did you not like it?”

“Wha? — No. It was… fine? I guess.”

“Fine? Just, fine? No ‘you would be ok if it happened again’ or it felt nice...?”

“I don’t know, is this important?”

“Kinda.” Glenn answered like she’s missing the obvious.

Eve sighed. She knows what he’s doing — somewhere in her jumbled head, she just can’t sort that out right now. “Glenn, please. I don’t know what to do about this  _ now _ .”

He sighed, letting his arms fall to his sides as he watched his breath mist. It’s freezing out here. “From what you said, I don’t think you need to  _ do  _ anything. Instead of trying to figure out what it changes, why don’t you start by sorting out how  _ you  _ feel about it first?”

Eve stopped and he watched her brain visibly settle to actually think.

“Like you said, it was an accident, right? If you don’t feel any different, why should anything change?”

Eve nodded, her bottom lip sucked so far into her mouth it’s like she’s trying to eat her own chin; thinking about it carefully.

Eve sighed like a teenager giving up on their homework, releasing her poor lip. “But what then?”

“We can talk again after you figure it out but there’s not much we  _ can _ do before that.”

She nodded, clearly not too thrilled but not arguing. And she looks leaps and bounds calmer than before.

For someone so stealthy she sure gets itchy feet.

“Come on. Let’s go back inside.” Glenn shivered and Eve nodded, finally taking notice of how cold it is.


	135. Chapter 135

I hate this.

Glenn said figure out how I felt about it, but this is torture. And for no good reason — ok well, it might be  _ good _ but that doesn’t mean it should be torturous.

Why can’t I just get a straight answer out of  _ myself _ of all people.

A hand clapped on my shoulder and I already know it’s Glenn, but I looked over anyway.

“You still thinking about it?” No, I hit my head really hard and now have temporary amnesia and am enjoying not remembering something I’m sure has only brought me headaches and  _ suuuper _ awkward hunting trips the last 4 days.

I sighed, nodding and rubbed my fingers into my eyes. Maybe I’ll go blind and this’ll be easier.

What —?  _ How  _ would that make things easier?

“What?” Glenn looked at me funny, eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Like what? Was I making a face?

I shook it off and gave him a half-smile. We should just finish this run and get back.

I shoved the rest of the food cans from this house’s basement into the plastic bin and looked over the shelves once more for the most nutritious stuff. There’s too much here to take all at once — thank the gods — but that means they should take the best stuff first, just in case.

Glenn heaved his crate up, straining to carry it and I took a breath before doing the same. Heaving might not be the right word, this is far worse. The bin dug into my fingers like there’s a magnet in the bottom and the floor is made of steel.

Getting up the creaky wooden stairs is even worse. Every time my foot makes it up another step, it feels like the box is getting heavier.

My bones of my arms felt like they were trying to pull apart but I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. Don’t ask me why, it’s just funny to me.

Glenn started laughing too, only 3 steps higher than me, struggling to keep his own box above his knees so he can actually take steps.

“I know I should probably start working out or something, but what’s your excuse? You started doing all that strength training like every day. What gives?” he jerked his chin at me, smiling from ear to ear.

“Not great diet. Too much  _ canned _ food.”

Glenn burst out laughing, me along with him. He almost had to set his box down just to catch his breath.

It took us longer to get up the stairs than it probably should have  _ but we made it;  _ giggling like idiots, almost all the way to the top.

Glenn dropped his box as soon as it was high enough to clear the final step and panted, “ _ Finally. _ ”

“Move your butt.” I readjusted my slipping grip for the 8th time, tempted to lift my leg and actually kick him in the butt but if I do that, I  _ will _ fall backwards and be crushed by this 3000 lbs box.

Glenn hurried out of the way and I shoved this box onto the ground same as he had.

Glenn glanced to his side and smiled all of a sudden. “Ey Daryl, why don’t you come carry this and let Eve take guard duty, it’s too heavy for her.”

My jaw dropped, eyes bulging out of my skull.

‘ _ You slime. _ ’

He dragged his own box back into the air with a cheeky grin, nevermind the red started to crop up in his face and neck from barely being able to carry his own box.

My mouth snapped shut the moment Daryl came over, and dropped again — indignantly — as he put his crossbow on his back and picked up the box like it isn’t a big deal.

He smirked at my face and I flipped him off.

“Stop flirting you two, we gotta get back.”

Oh that’s it.

Glenn yelped as I slipped past Daryl and bolted around the corner after him.

I caught him in the lesser part of 4 strides and got him by the back of his shirt just before he reached the door.

I shoved him behind me and threw my leg out at the same time, somewhat using him to maintain my balance as my foot slammed into the walkers side right as it stumbled through the doorway and barreled it straight into the coat closet next to the front door.

I pulled my knife and checked outside the door while it struggled to get up, tangled in jackets. Looks like it’s just the one.

I turned around and stepped on it’s back, between the shoulder blades before stabbing it in the back of the head, under the jaw and skull, behind the head.

It occurred to me the other day that I should be more careful about my kills when I can. These blades are nice but they won’t last forever, and they’re starting to show it.

It either chip, I’ll have to find new ones.

“Thanks.” Glenn breathed, watching me pull it out with a squishy  _ ‘slick _ ’. I gave him a thumbs up before heading out first.

I took a walk around the car just to clear it and get a look down both ends of the road before heading to the driver seat.

The boxes were put in the back and Daryl took the passenger side while Glenn took the backseat and off we were.

I flicked on the car heater, my shoulders becoming earrings. ‘ _ I can’t wait for it to be warm again. _ ’

I glanced at Daryl when checking the side mirror out of habit and stared for maybe just a little too long while he picked at a hangnail (which of course he tried to chew off when he couldn’t get it with his fingers).

My brain is gonna explode. I sagged into the seat, getting more comfortable.

I feel like I’m just going in circles. ‘Figure out how I feel about it.’

Feelings? What are those? I’ll give you a feeling,  _ confusing _ .

There figured it out. Next step please.

I made a right turn and headed down the street to the house.

Well … I wouldn’t say it was  _ bad _ . I’m glad it wasn’t someone else. That would’ve been way worse.

Daryl hasn’t said anything about it. But that doesn’t exactly make me feel better, and I don’t know  _ why _ .

I don’t wanna talk about it, but I know we probably should. Even just to clarify that it’s not a big deal if it isn’t. I wanna know what he thinks about it because maybe then I can sort out what I do.

For some reason though I feel like we’re playing chicken but there’s no train or anything to put pressure so we’re just standing on the tracks awkwardly staring at each other.

And I’m hoping he’ll break first and bring it up, so I won’t have to. But he’s Daryl Dixon. If he can get away with ignoring it forever, he probably will. And I’m me. Personally I’m a big fan of ignoring a personal problem until it goes away, solves itself, or finally gets annoying enough to deal with.

Based on track record, I know it’s gonna be me who cracks first. I don’t do well with not knowing something when I could find out.

I’d like it to not be me for a change. That’d be nice.

I pulled up to the house and Glenn got out of the car like it was on fire, running to open the gate.

“What’s the matter with ‘im?” Daryl shared a look with me and I shrugged.

Glenn got the gate open and I pulled the car into the driveway, parking next to my truck and the other line up of vehicles.

I got the doors while the boys got the boxes and as soon as I walked in, Carl came down the stairs and called, “They’re back!” into the living room.

It’s amazing how fast he’s adjusted to being able to raise his voice a little in the house.

Can’t be quiet all the time. Trust me.

I gasped.

Maggie.

I should talk to Maggie.

Maggie might know. Glenn’s a guy but Maggie’s a girl and maybe it’s like — I don’t know  _ different _ for girls? Maybe there’s a way to know that he doesn’t know about.

I gotta find Maggie.


	136. Chapter 136

**3rd Person POV**

Eve gasped and Daryl jumped, almost dropping the box on his foot, before she bolted off like she’d just remember she left the stove on, without so much as a glance in his direction.

He stared after, pure confusion etched all over his face and only spared a glance around just to see if anyone else had seen. Rick, Hershel, and T-Dog in the living room did in fact see it, but nothing except confusion was shared between the 4.

Her boots knocked on the hardwood under Eve’s boots as she ran around the house like a jackrabbit being chased by a fox, looking for one short-brown-haired girl who knows all about kissing and everything Eve doesn’t, like it’s her only mission in life.

She checked all 4 of the upstairs rooms — including the bathroom, then raced downstairs and started checking every other room with much less tactics than normal and as she was running right past the in-home office caught a glimpse of the girl.

Slamming on the brakes, Eve slid almost half a meter and almost tripped before spinning on her toes — felt like a ballerina for a second — and ran back, both hands slamming on the sides of the door as she shouted, “Maggie!”

“_ UaAh! _” Maggie screamed, jumping so hard she dropped the books in her hands, a rain of hard backs dropping like boulders onto her feet as she slammed her back into the floor-to-ceiling bookcases, hand on her heart and face like she just gave up the ghost.

“Oh my god,” Maggie breathed, panting like she’s gonna cry.

Footsteps thundered through the house like a storm and in half a second flat half the house surrounded them with various weapons. Including a frying pan, a lamp, several guns and knives, and a tennis racket?

Eve stared at the racket trying to figure out where it came from while Glenn moved past her into the room — stepping out of his way — to his girlfriend.

“Are you ok — are you hurt — what happened?” Glenn grabbed her hands, checking her over like a mother duck.

Eve bit her lips, turning to look out the window as unassuming as possible.

“T’s alright, I’m fine. She just snuck up on me.”

Eve immediately felt eyes on her back but she refused to look. 

She got some looks but thankfully everyone dispersed back to whatever it was they were doing before, and was left with only one questioning gaze to answer.

And Maggie’s burning eyes only had one thing to say. ‘You better have a good reason for this.’

Eve sighed and motioned to the dusty leather arm chairs in the center of the room before going to the door and closing it.

Confused and concerned, Maggie took the unspoken invitation and took up a seat next to the one Eve dumped herself into, and watched the 30 year old woman pull her shoes off and fold her legs up like a little kid about to tell a secret.

Maggie set aside her amusement of Eve’s — unsurprising — childish conduct and leaned on the chair arm, giving her full attention to the silent killer.

Maggie waited for her to say something but after what felt like ten minutes of silence, she sighed. Eve isn’t a talker — except for when people are being 5 year olds and there are lives at stake — but it looks like Maggie’s gonna have to start this conversation even though she was the one called.

“Are you ok?”

Eve opened her mouth but ended up just shaking her head. Trying very hard not to associate this scene with a therapist session. The leather chairs and the way Maggie’s sitting, and the whole studious vibe of the room, despite the layers of dust on everything, is making it very difficult.

“What’s this about?” Maggie prompted, trying to get the one person who doesn’t like talking more than Daryl to use her words. She’s been very agitated about it lately, and Maggie suspects it probably has to do with the fact that in recent weeks she’s been forced to communicate more and more. And complex ideas, not things that can really get across with a few expressions and maybe a gesture or two.

The others kinda agreed to try not to push her (agreeing that it wouldn’t be fun to find out what it would be like if she snaps), but circumstances.

Maggie scanned her face, trying to decipher how to speak Eve but ultimately, she ended up speaking Glenn. “Is this about the other day?”

Eve froze and looked at Maggie the same way she does when she’s on watch and hears something.

“Glenn told me what happened between you and Daryl.”

Eve’s eyes moved to the bookcase in the general direction of where she imagines Glenn to be. ‘_ You traitorous little— _’

“Are you havin’ trouble with it?” Maggie glanced at her fingers, picking at her fingertips. You’d have to be pretty out of it not to notice the two of them have been… for lack of a better word, uncomfortable.

Eve looked at her like a mind reader.

“It’s pretty obvious.” Maggie chuckled.

Eve curled up a little more, pouting and Maggie actually feels for her. She’s freaking out over one little accidental kiss and to be honest, Maggie thought she & Daryl _were_ _already _together, and were just keeping it to themselves cause they spend so much time together.

Glenn thought she’d lost her mind when he told her about this last night but come on, really?

They’re concerned for each other’s well-being, they _ flip their shit _ when either is — or was — in trouble, they get twitchy as an animal in a cage whenever they’re more than 10 feet from each other, they’ve been practically attached at the hip since the day Maggie met them, they can have a whole ass conversation with just their eyes and like the _ slightest _ facial expression change.

And just for a cherry on top, they don’t ever seem to mind each other’s touch but as soon as someone else walks too close to them, Daryl acts like he’s touched and electric fence, and Eve freezes like liquid nitrogen.

Maggie looked at her expression now though … she has no _ idea _ what it’s like to like someone.

“Yer havin’ _a_ _lot_ of trouble with this, aren’t you?”

Eve deflated into her chair, like a balloon, planting her hands into her hair like tree roots. “I don’t _ understand. _What am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to just wait? Get mad? — I don’t feel mad — Are things just gonna go back to normal, do we need to talk about it, is it cool if we just ignore it, does it change anything, am I overthinking?”

“Oh yer definitely overthinking, but that’s normal.”

“_ Normal? _How can that be normal?”

Maggie shrugged. “You can’t really answer any of those questions yourself though. Have you talked to Daryl yet?”

Eve shook her head, shoving her palms into her eyes while Maggie glanced at the rat’s nest she’s turned her dark locks into.

“Why not?”

“Cause Ace told me to figure out how I feel about it first.”

“Have you?”

“Oh yes, now I’m just waiting for the sun god to give me a chariot and a big sign so I can declare it.”

“So that’s a no.” Maggie deadpanned at her before snorting.

Then she asked the million dollar question, “You care about each other right?”

Eve paused. “Well ... yeah but,”

“In my experience, that’s all the answer ya need.”

“Really? That’s it?” Eve looked at her skeptically.

“What did you expect?” Maggie pulled her leg up, resting her knee against the tall leather armrest.

Eve shrugged. “Detailed step by step???”

Maggie burst out laughing. “That would sure be nice.”

“We’ve been at this for thousands of years, a better question is, why _ isn’t _ there?”

“Cosmo gave it their best shot.” Maggie paused and they looked at each other before bursting out laughing.


	137. Chapter 137

“How do you know this stuff?”

“I went to high school.” Maggie chuckled, folding her legs up to criss-cross and holding her ankles.

“So did I.” Eve pouted, sinking into the seat.

“I’ve also been in relationships before.” Maggie pointed out.

Eve opened her mouth and slowly closed it, nodding.

Maggie couldn’t help smiling. “You should talk to him. This ain’t gonna stop bothering ya till you do.”

Eve swallowed, feeling nauseous at just the thought of how awkward  _ that  _ conversion will be.

Maybe she’ll go for a run first.

“The longer you wait, the worse it’ll be.” Maggie pressed and Eve shifted away, putting her knees up and pinching her hands between them.

“Have you ever dated anyone before?” Maggie leaned her elbow on the armrest and put her chin in her palm.

Eve shook her head.

“Really?”

Eve gave her a ‘is that so surprising’ look and Maggie shrugged, exhaling a sigh. “I figured you might’ve at some point, I mean how old are you?”

“Elevendy one.” Eve answered immediately.

Maggie snorted, cracking up.

_ ‘She has a great smile. _ ’ Eve smiled. “Apparently not as old as you though. You sound like a baby boomer.  _ Never been in a relationship at your age? Why I never, _ ” Eve mocked, putting her palm against her chest like she’s personally offended at someone else’s life choices.

Maggie started to wheeze, giggling uncontrollably and the sound spurred Eve’s own laugh. Both of them loud and bubbly and underused these days.

When the girls finally calmed down, Glenn & Randall came in to see what was so funny. The girls waved it off but Eve motioned for them to take a seat. Join the conversation. And yes it’s absolutely to get out of talking about the situation she’s found herself in. All because of a stupid frozen puddle.

The atmosphere took a serious turn once again when Glenn suddenly asked, “How long do you think we’ll be able to stay here?”

“As long as it’s safe.” Maggie answered but Eve shook her head.

“Until the resources run out.” She shifted to lean on her elbow. “Can only stay so long before it’s drained.”

“Unless we could make it livable, right? There’s a garden out back, the house has walls and a gate.”

‘ _ Oh Glenn, I envy your hopeful mind. I hope you never lose that. _ ’ Eve unfortunately has to burst his bubble though. “There’s no water. As soon as those pallets we found are gone, we’ll have no choice.”

Glenn sighed, letting his head thunk back and stared at the ceiling. “Dammit. I really like this place.”

Maggie sighed. “Me too.”

“Me three.” Randall sighed.

Eve shrugged, “Too much  _ ice _ .”

Maggie and Glenn both burst out laughing and Randall smiled in complete confusion. “I don’ get it.”

Eve straightened her legs and propped them up on the coffee table and point at her head making a circle and made a ‘crazy’ whistle.

Randall smiled wider and let it go.

Eve’s really glad she stood up for the kid. Glad the others gave him a chance, even if they haven’t totally warmed up to him yet.

* * *

“I knew you’d keep stalling, so I told Daryl to meet you upstairs.”

_ ‘You what!? _ ’ Eve looked like she was gonna bolt and Glenn gave her a cheeky smile.

“Go on. It won’t be as bad as you’re imagining. I promise.” he nudged her forward, almost pushing her up the stairs.

“It’s just a talk Eve. You don’t have to look like you’re being sent to the gallows.” he chuckled, and took Maggie’s hand, leading her into the living room where most of the others are gathered.

Eve’s eyes followed them, flickering down to their hands and just trying to quantify their dynamic or something — she’s not sure what she’s doing or really looking at to be honest. Just … them. They’re so good together and have been since the moment they met. But she — for the life of her — can’t figure out how they did it.

And they’re not the best teachers either. Maggie was a little more insightful (sorry Ace), but Eve’s mind keeps wandering back to books and Tv and all the cheesy things you hear about. LIke how people met and stuff but she has a sucky feeling that this is one of those things you just can’t really teach or explain. It’s something that has to be experienced. And isn’t that just  _ dandy _ .

Eve may or may not have dragged her feet as she went upstairs but can you blame her?

She took deep breaths as she reached the 2nd floor, how is she even gonna start this conversation?


	138. Chapter 138

Of course Daryl was in the  _ last  _ room she checked, pacing a hole in the floor with his thumbnail in his mouth.

Daryl noticed her almost straight away and halted. “Ey.”

Eve gave him an awkward smile as she closed the door. “Hey.”

That threw him off. A verbal reply. It’s just as jarring as the first time he ever heard her speak. He just assumes she’s not going to so often that sometimes it really throws him.

Eve swallowed hard, feeling her throat muscles almost grind as she moved farther into the room despite wanting to do anything but press her back against the door and be ready to fling it open and take off. But that wouldn’t be fair. One look at Daryl and she knows she’s not the only one who wants to run from this and would rather just not deal with it, but a bigger part knows — and wants — to get the water clear again so they can get back to being comfortable. And this is the fastest way to do that.

“We — I thought it’d be ok if we just let it go and let bygones be bygones but I was wrong. We should talk about...” Eve made an out of character shaky gesture with her hand towards the wall.

“Yeah.” Daryl looked at his shoes, folding his arms across his chest. His voice a tad gruffer than usual.

Eve wiped her palms on her thighs, an uncomfortable sweat beginning to collect in all sorts of places, like she’s been cornered by something she can’t fight and she’s so close to making a run for it she might jump out that window just for a shortcut.

Thank all of creation she’s the type of person to just get the hard part over with when there’s no way around it.

So she sighed, using it to brace herself, deciding to lay all her cards on the table.

She’s not gonna feel any less awkward or any less uncomfortable no matter how this conversation goes or how tactful she — or either of them try to be, so she might as well adjust and get it over with.

“Let’s just— let’s start with how you— we both feel about it.”

‘ _ Off to a great start here’ _ Eve could do without her own inner commentary right now but that would be boring for the universe.

Daryl nodded, his lips pinched tight together like he’s put a sour in his mouth. He looks like he’s being spoon-fed salt with a little lemon juice to wash it down.

A long silence passed, neither speaking up, both waiting for someone else to say it first.

They both sort of knew who would crack first. If there’s no anger involved, Daryl’s a lock box for things he doesn’t wanna talk about. Eve’s lip-zip in a tense atmosphere only breaks out when there’s physical danger.

“I don’t …” Eve wracked her brain for words, for the right way to put this to try and diffuse the tension a little. Cracking a joke probably isn’t the best idea, Daryl would likely scoff but that won’t help loosen his lips — ... Or will it? No no no— if she tries to come up with a joke right now it’ll completely miss and make things worse.

“I ain’t angry bout it.” Daryl finally swallowed his discomfort to rescue Eve from herself.

_ ‘What? _ ’ Eve paused and stared at him. It didn’t even occur to her that that’s something someone might be angry about. — She has no idea  _ why _ but, that’s a thing some people are tetchy about.

She removed her tongue from her molars, not even aware until that moment that she’s been tonguing them like there’s caramel stuck in her teeth, and straightened her back a little.

“Me neither.”

“What ...” Daryl stopped mid-start, rethinking asking but his mouth opened on it’s own again to continue but Eve beat him to it.

“I don’t think it was bad. Do you?”

“Nah” The word slipped out a little faster than expected, but only because he already knew the answer (ironically unaware of that fact).

Eve nodded, chewing her lips as she looked around the room, taking stock of it so she didn’t have to look at Daryl. The beige carpet is surprisingly clean for how long it’s been unattended. There’s a bench underneath the two windows on the right-side wall when coming in from the door.

The whole room is shades of beige and dark wood, but the bed in the far left corner is a twin-size with a pink & white bedspread. Little fairy lights that have probably long run out of power strung on the wall above them.

Directly across from the door, behind Daryl there’s a shelf built into the wall, crammed with all sorts of things. From stuffed animals to college textbooks, to trinkets and knick-knacks from all over the place.

The white dresser against the wall directly left of coming in the door is spilling over with very teenage girl things and as messy as a teenage boys room; just confined to the dresser.

The walk-in closet right next to it is worse. And not just because you can see directly into it by standing one step into the room and looking directly left.

Eve’s tempted to go wrench that closet door shut (if she can  _ find  _ it), just to put her mind at ease about something possibly jumping out of there to grab her the second she looks away.

You can rationalize that they’ve been here long enough that if something was in there, it would’ve gotten out by now, but that doesn’t change how she feels about it.

Part of her wishes she hadn’t noticed it, but now that she knows, thinking about not knowing it was ever there, is somehow worse.

_ ‘Think Daryl would help me push that dresser in front of it? _ ’ Eve poked her tongue into her cheek and Daryl followed her eyes to the closet.

She either wants to go hide in it, or something about it’s messing with her.

Either way, he sighed under his breath and went over before Eve even noticed he’d moved, and stepped inside to reach for the handle and pulled the door shut. Successful in bringing her attention back.

Good lord, sometimes she’s so hard to keep on track — or to get  _ off _ track — that he questions if she’s adhd or somethin’. He doesn’t know a lot about that sort of stuff, but he’s seen his fair share of that particular one after sitting next to someone for his entire junior year who popped pills for it like tic tacs.

Eve gave him a sheepish smile, the apples of her cheeks tinting red in the dark before she turned and went to sit at the window bench. She pulled her legs up criss-cross applesauce, and somehow fits with this room like it’s her own. Aside from the pink bedspread. She strikes Daryl as more of a dark purple kinda girl. Then again, she spends so much time looking at the sky, he could see blue too.

Daryl followed her to the window and leaned on the frame, looking out at the massive backyard and up to the deep blue sky, little white speckles pushing their way through the cold veil which is indescribable by any words he knows, maybe he could find them if he was anything of a wordsmith but he ain’t. All he can say is that on nights like this, somehow you can just  _ see _ the cold even if it looks no different than it did during the summer time.

_ ‘Ugh _ ’ Daryl mentally groaned at himself. Now he knows why Rick scrubs his hand down his face when talking to the group sometimes. He hates this. The awkward tension is disappearing but he still has no idea what to say — if there even  _ is _ anything to say.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it since it happened. How one stupid accident has tangled their partnership in an awkward web, but even now after getting an answer to one of his many questions, he still doesn’t know how to ask the others that’ve been pestering him almost non-stop.

The forerunner being, does this change things?

Daryl almost deadpanned. Well he just figured out how to word it.

Having the sentence, turns out, doesn’t change how difficult it is to ask it.

He stood there in silence, shifting on his feet, trying not to clear his throat, and got close to actually saying it several times before his throat just choked him silent, until he finally grew frustrated enough that he just looked at her and spat it out.

“Does this change things?”

Eve looked at him, her mouth opened like she had a reply but it’s obvious she doesn’t after nothing came out but then again, he’s not  _ always _ fluent in Eve speak.

Eve licked her lips and readjusted herself, taking a loaded breath before answering. “I thought it didn’t, but yeah. I think it does. What about you?”

Daryl sighed and nodded, answering with a gruff, “Yeah.” as he glanced back out the window for a second.

“It doesn’t need to be a bad thing.” It wasn’t a question but Eve looked at him like it was all the same. She doesn’t wanna just assume they have the same stance on this. They agree on a lot of things, but with them and their backgrounds, there are some … tricky territories.

“Glenn told me to figure out how I feel about it before we talked but… to be honest, I don’t know how I feel about it.”

“Me neither.” Daryl admitted. And he can say with 100% certainty he would not have admitted that to  _ anyone, _ except her.

“But I do know how I  _ don’t _ feel about it.” Eve stated, already feeling her face go up 100 degrees and her voice dropped to  _ barely _ above a mutter. “I didn’t …  _ not _ like it.”


	139. Chapter 139

“How d’ya think it’s goin’ up there?” Maggie nudged Glenn with her shoulder. The light from the trifecta of candles that Carol’s using to cook casting warm light over the group that’s mostly all gathered in the living room for food and companionship in the dark cold house.

Glenn shrugged. “It’s Daryl and Eve, two of the most non-verbal people I have ever met, having to talk to each other. I can’t imagine it’s going very well. But they’ll work it out.”

“One good thing about not talking a lot is not being able to beat around the bush.”

Maggie’s eyebrows creased at the center. “How d’you know that?”

Glenn grimaced, looking to the side with the barn incident in mind. “Trust me. I know. They’re both good at a lot of things, — I can’t speak for Daryl but Eve isn’t a huge fan of wasting words.”

_ ‘Yeah, she really ain’t. _ ’ Maggie scoffed under her breath recalling the many times she’s talked  _ at _ the woman. Today was probably the first proper conversation she’s ever had with her.

* * *

“What do we do about it?” Eve asked. For once not having any clue what to do.

“What do ya  _ wanna _ do about it?” Daryl countered, not having any idea either.

Both of them sat in silence. Eve tapping her index fingers together.

The only thing that comes to mind is, “Maybe … we should just see what happens?”

“You mean wait again?”

“Yes and no. I mean like …” Eve tilted her head back and forth struggling to find the right words to explain. 

“Give it a try?” Daryl offered and Eve nodded.

“I don’t think it’ll take too long to figure out if we like it. If it’s not for us, we can just agree to stay partners.”

Daryl would normally nod in agreement with her logic, she’s pretty good at logic. But it seems she’s not so good with feelings.

Daryl chewed his lip. “I get it, but feelin’s don’t work like that, Twinkle Toes.”

‘ _ Twinkle toes. Haven’t heard that one in awhile. _ ’ Eve sucked on her teeth, and blinked at him skeptically.

Daryl sighed. He’s gonna have to explain this to ‘er. “It’s just like how ya  _ thought _ we could ignore it and just keep on how we always have, but here we are.” Daryl motioned to the dark room they’re sitting in, talking about exactly what Eve thought they could just ignore.

_ ‘In my defense, that was more of wishful thinking. _ ’ Eve sighed, leaning her head on the window. ‘ _ But I see his point. _ ’

Eve thought for a minute but surprisingly Daryl’s the one who came up with something first.

“What ‘bout if we only do stuff that’s easy to walk back from?”

Eve raised an eyebrow and Daryl could almost hear her say ‘I’m listening.’

“We could just like...” Daryl half shrugged, trying to shurk off some awkwardness by not actually saying what he’s thinking.

Eve’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Like…hugs and stuff?”

“Yeah, or somein” Daryl shrugged, chewing the loose skin off his bottom lip. This is still the most awkward conversation he’s ever had, but he’s glad Eve said it instead of him.

Eve nodded, starting to get it. “So, we should decide what’s ok and what’s a no then.”

Daryl nodded with a rough hum of agreement.

“So, uh ... maybe we should probably just stick to less … romantic(?) stuff — If we wanna make sure it won’t make things awkward, in case we decide that you know, we like it better just the way it is. Was.” Eve’s eyes wandered to and from nothing, trying her hardest to actually look at Daryl and failing miserably.

“Yeah, that’s probably best.” Daryl tried not to clench his teeth. He’s got about as much relationship experience as he suspects Eve does. But it’s sort of gone unspoken that they can’t just ask someone or take clues from the young love-birds Glenn & Maggie.

They have more … treacherous waters than them.

“So, should we just go down a list of stuff and decide Yay or nay?” Eve asked, feeling a lot less awkward than before. Being able to think about this more like a plan of action than a ‘feelings’ thing makes it so much easier to deal with. Don’t judge.

Daryl chewed on his thumbnail, but nodded. It’s as good an idea as any.

A pulse of panic shot through Eve. ‘ _ What do couples do? _ ’

“Ok, so… um, ha— hand holding. Yay or nay?”

“Uh, yay.” Daryl answered, not really sure but … they’ve  _ technically _ held hands before. Like when he pulled her out of the sinkhole and in those kind of life or death circumstances. It can’t be that different.

Eve thought for a second. “Hugs, yay or nay?”

Daryl stiffened but slowly nodded.

Eve watched him prickle up like a threatened cat. “You sure?”

He nodded but Eve doesn’t totally buy it. It’s good that he’s stretching his comfort zone though.

“How about I warn you first?” Eve suggested.

Daryl nodded, the tension draining from his posture almost visibly.

“Ok, um...” Eve looked at Daryl. “I’ve run out of ideas.”

* * *

“We could just, try stuff and decide then.”

“Which one of them said that?” Glenn whispered to his girlfriend as the two of them crammed up against the door, eavesdropping.

“Shh” Maggie put her finger on her lips, whispering back, “I can’t hear.”

“Do you think they’ve worked it out yet?” Glenn whispered.

Maggie rolled her eyes, smiling a little. “I think they’ve done a little more than work it out.”

Glenn’s face lit up like a little kid. “For real?”

“ _ Shh! _ ” Maggie slapped her hand over his mouth, pulling her strength at last second so she didn’t hurt him.

Maggie listened to it go quiet and then a little bit of shuffling.

“What are ya—” Daryl’s gruff voice was cut off.

A long silence followed, and Maggie’s brain spun as she flattened her ear against the door, ignoring Glenn poking her shoulder.  _ ‘What’s happening? Are they kissin’ again? _ ’

* * *

Eve put her finger to her lips, cutting Daryl off, before pointing to the door. Daryl raised an eyebrow and listened. He understood a second later when he heard muttering from the door, followed by a ‘shh’.

Eve got up and as silent as ever, made her way to the door. Daryl couldn’t help looking at her feet, as if he could see if she’s making  _ any _ noise at all. He doesn’t know what he expected. Maybe like a comic book ‘tap tap tap’ or something.

Daryl’s lip quirked up in a smirk as he leaned back on the window frame, while he watched a cheeky little grin curl up Eve’s lips. Her pale hand was like a careful claw as she grabbed the door handle without jiggling it in the slightest.


	140. Chapter 140

Eve ripped the door open and a short scream burst from Maggie’s throat.

She launched herself backwards slamming her back into Glenn’s chest, and Eve watched with a grin as they tumbled over.

Neither even saw her face before they were up and flying down the wide wooden staircase like they were fleeing their own shadows.

Daryl shook his head, laughing under his breath, despite himself. It was just so stupid and so, so…  _ teenage. _

That’s the kind of crap your high school buddies do when they find out you’ve got a crush and set you up to be alone with them.

Glenn & Eve were made to be best friends, and it seems Maggie’s fallen victim to their ways at last. It was only a matter of time.

Daryl smiled, looking at Eve standing there watching them run, all triumphant. She’s like a big sister scaring her younger siblings. It reminds him of Merle. But you know, less of a prick and prettier eyes though he’s sure Merle would object if he ever heard ‘im say that.

Eve snickered as she listened to Maggie & Glenn getting scolded downstairs for screaming again. One false alarm a night is enough. Although hearing someone say Eve was gonna get scolded as soon as she came downstairs too, it gave new incentive to stay here in this awkward situation, for as long as possible. Maybe “fall asleep”.

She shut the door slower than necessary, as if someone would come bolting up the stairs like a horror movie monster the moment they knew the door had been open. As soon as she turned around though, she blinked.

Daryl raised an eyebrow in question. “What?”

Eve blinked again. “It’s dark in here.”

The room seemed bright enough before she opened the door and saw the light in the living room downstairs where they’ve probably got a fire going in a trash bucket or something; maybe candles. Candles are more likely.

Eve’s ear twitched when she heard a breathy sound as she waved her arms around, trying to make her way back to the window. “So are we done talking or…? Is there something else you wanna talk about?”

Eve made it back to the window without tripping (a miracle) and Daryl grumbled, “Nah, you?”

Eve shook her head. “So just to clarify, we’re gonna stick to the vanilla stuff until further notice.”

“Yeah. Guess so.” Daryl chewed his thumbnail, staring out the window.

Eve’s eyes finally readjusted to the dark as she gazed out the window and a comfortable welcome silence descended between like a sleepy fog. Daryl took a little longer to process everything than Eve, but Eve took longer to settle after spending so long being hyper aware of everything.

Somehow she thought it would feel different. I mean, it’s only been a few minutes, but the companionable silence feels the same as ever.

Quiet and calm. A feeling of safety and the return of silent understanding after clearing up this mess.

Part of her is a little concerned about how this is going to change things. Or if it’ll change anything at all.

She hasn’t been of two minds like this in a long time.

Part of her actually does want something to change, the other part of her doesn’t. One part thinks that even with their ‘vanilla’ restriction something will change that they can’t go back from. Another part of her is all happy-go-lucky saying it’ll be fine, like some surfer dude telling her to chill and just go with the flow.

One thing’s for sure though. She has a fuzzy warm feeling in her stomach, like the same vibe you get from hanging out with your best friend, but more… fluttery. Like that feeling you get standing on the edge of a diving board, ready to jump, or when your favorite part of your favorite movie is about to happen.

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

Rick wasn’t kidding about no more democracy in the group. It’s become more like a monarchy. Rick’s the leader, Lori’s obviously pregnant now, and Carl’s the prodigal son.

Hershel’s the adviser, Daryl’s become something like the captain of the guard, Glenn & Maggie scouts, etc. Everyone’s finding their place within the ranks and where they pull their weight.

I know I have one, I just… can’t figure out what it is.

Sometimes I feel like an adviser, sometimes I feel like court jester, other times scout, sometimes like a personal guard for Carl and Lori.

I hate to say it, but I’ve been taking Lori’s safety and condition a lot more seriously than her husband.

My eyes followed Rick as he leaned over the map we’ve set up on the dining room table. The dining room’s become sort of our planning/meeting/discussion area.

The living room is where most of our supplies are and the communal space, as well as most of us sleeping in there.

It’s only been 5 days since the most awkward conversation of my life. And yeah, not much has changed. I don’t exactly know how fast it should(?) or even what should(?) be happening, but so far, this isn’t so bad.

If Daryl’s done anything he wouldn’t have before, I haven’t noticed. All I’ve done is being a little less awkward about resting my shoulder against his when we stand or sit next to each other.

Then again, we’ve been out hunting most of the time. We’re starting to have less luck with finding food in the nearby houses, so Team Runner — as I’ve somehow started calling us — has split into two groups. Daryl & I go hunting, while Maggie & Glenn search houses, and all 4 of us go when we’re searching new areas; because Merlin knows you never know what you’re walking into and creation forbid you walk into it alone.

It actually makes me a little nervous letting those two go on their own. Putting their lives in danger. But I know I need to get used to it. What’s more distressing is the one thing I have noticed shift between my partner and I since our talk.

I’m less inclined to not have him in my line of sight. Even when I know he’s just in the house or on the property somewhere. Unless I know where he is, I’ve started to get anxious.

If this is gonna be a thing, I am  _ not _ looking forward to it. This alone might be enough to sway me off this “experiment” we’ve undertaken.

I can’t feel like this out there every time we lose sight of each other, it will damage my concentration.

Is this why he’s been telling me not to go off on my own all the time? Oh Hell — I am  _ so sorry _ Daryl. If I’d known this is what it’s like, I’d have found us some walkie talkies or something so we can get in touch when this  _ horrible _ feeling creeps up.

It’s more… just like, burning curiosity, when I  _ know _ he’s not in trouble.

Lord I hope it settles down though. Maybe it’s just a ‘new thing’ jitters sort of thing? Cause neither of us are really used to this yet?

God I hope so. This is not fun. No funyuns, Paul Bunyan. Why am I rhyming? Oh my speckled fruity snack, I’m rhyming.

I’ve gone insane.

Welp, as long as I’m here.

I slid off the kitchen counter and went to the 4 gathered around the planning table.

I can’t tell if I’m breathing or not, but I casually (please captain of the seven seas let it come off that way) leaned my arm on Daryl’s shoulder, looking over his shoulder at the map where Maggie and Glenn are explaining their next run to Rick.

Daryl’s shoulder tensed as he glanced at me but after a few seconds he seemed to adjust and slowly untensed.

I don’t know whether or not he had to consciously do it, just like I did, but we both know this is gonna take some adjusting. A lot of adjusting, truth be told.

Glenn shot me a knowing grin and I crossed my eyes at him before going back to the map.

Daryl shifted his weight from foot to foot without moving too much to displace my arm, and I definitely know  _ that’s _ not a conscious effort. Because one shared look between us, both of us biting our lips and I know he sees the problem with their plan too.

“That ain’t gon’ work.” Daryl spoke up and the other 3 looked at him (and me for some reason).

“Why not? It’s a good plan, isn’t it?”

My face scrunched into something of a cringe as I shook my head, my hair tickling my shoulder; I need to cut it even shorter, it grows too fast for this length to serve its purpose.

“See this right ‘ere.” Daryl point to a tiny road on the map that we’ve trekked across in our hunts.

“This goes over a canal where the road’s half-collapsed. You can get past it on foot, but the water’s full’a walkers that must’a fallen in.”

“How many?” Rick asked, scrunching his brow at the new information but that’s the face he makes and voice he uses when he’s onto something.

Daryl glanced at me with a partial shrug, “Couple Dozen. Maybe more.”

Rick looked back at the map. “That could be why this area seems safer than normal. The most a the town is across that canal, but not many walkers can make it past that road.”

Well that’s good for us. Until the canal fills up.

“Well that’s good for us. Until there’s too many.”

I narrowed my eyes at Daryl.

‘ _ Oh my — you can totally actually hear my thoughts, can’t you? _ ’

Daryl looked at me and a little surge went through my gut. I didn’t expect that to actually work.

The corner of his lip quirked up for half a second and I carefully lifted my arm from his shoulder like he’s a bomb that’ll go off if I move too quick.

“What is it?” Maggie asked, looking concerned. “What else is there?”

I looked at her confused and shook my head, waving it off.

Daryl snorted and I shot him a little tiny ‘I will get you’ glare before I caught Rick’s unamused gaze.

“Can we focus please?”

Only if you talk quickly.

Daryl shifted uncomfortably and I leaned my hands on the table, letting my bicep touch his, deliberately.

I’m gonna get better at actually testing this new arrangement, he’s obviously not comfortable making the first steps. But let’s face it, I’m more of a daredevil than he is. Heheh.

Glenn scratched his head, leaning on his elbows against the table. “There’s only a couple places this side of the water that we haven’t checked yet.”

“There ain’t much game ‘ere either.” Daryl input.

“So we either have to go on foot, or move on.”

I shook my head. “We can’t move on.”

Rick looked at me like I’ve challenged his authority but a little less serious than that.

“Dead of winter’s right around the corner. Temperature’s been droppin’ faster every night. We move now, we won’t last two weeks.”

“So across the river it is.” Maggie sighed, crossing her arms as she stared at the table.

We all stood for a moment, thinking before Rick spoke, “Tomorrow at dawn. We’ll take Randall with us. Everyone else will stay here, hold down the fort until we get back.”

Wait Rick’s coming? This is … unexpected.

Everyone nodded and Rick looked at me. “Eve, do inventory tonight and make a list. I trust you & Glenn will know some… creative places to check for the stuff & thangs we need.”

I nodded and was the first to leave the room, going to find a pen and paper. I know we have some around here somewhere. And if not, there’s gotta be some in the house somewhere.


	141. Chapter 141

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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Daryl followed me out but as I detoured up the stairs, grabbing the rail and taking the steps two at a time, he continued to the living room. Probably to get his share of breakfast, I haven’t seen him eat yet.

I searched the rooms until I found a pen that actually works and a notebook that’s a pretty handy size. Maybe a little on the big side, but it’ll make a great list maker.

I went back to the room we’ve got our boxes stacked and sat down in front of them. I need to organize this so the list is easy to 

I’ll start with the smaller boxes and work my way up, but I think I should separate them into lists of what we have, and what we should have and anything that isn’t on the ‘have’ goes on the “shopping” list.

Yeah, that sounds good.

I dropped the pen and notebook next to me and started opening the cardboard boxes first. We should get rid of these asap and replace them with better bins — heavy plastic and resistant to different kinds of damage, especially water. That’s one thing that shouldn’t be too hard to find actually. Most stores that sell cheap furniture should have stuff like that. I know a couple right off the top of my head that should.

* * *

Some of these lists are longer than I thought they’d be, and others aren’t long enough.

Thankfully the shopping list isn’t too long, our utilitarian supply list is lengthy and most of our gear is in good condition. It’s the food list that’s the problem.

I knew it would be but I was dreading to see the actual list and I was right to.

If we don’t find food that doesn’t spoil and will last a while, we’re gonna be in deep trouble.

We’ve got enough to last all of us another 4 days but after that we’re officially fasting.

I sighed and put the lid back on the box. Grabbing the notepad next to me and set in on my knee and scribbled down the last of the food inventory.

We should avoid grabbing things that can’t make more than 2 meals from now on, unless we’re gonna eat it right away or it can be kept for a long time.

We should look for things like rice, canned beans, pasta. Powdered mashed potatoes and soup bases and whatnot. Stuff that’s filling and keeps, and makes enough that we can feed everyone for a whole day.

We can space it out so that we’re only eating 1 meal a day and having small snacks throughout the rest.

We should eat the meal when it’s least likely we’ll have to run, or when we have adequate time to digest it for energy before. So breakfast or dinner.

“Ey,” A hand dropped on my shoulder and I jumped higher than a cat.

Daryl jerked his hand back like he grabbed a hot pan at the same time I grabbed my shoulder like something bit me.

My heart beat against my palm while I tried to breath like a normal fish again.

“Sorry.” he mumbled.

I waved it off, breathing heavily but smiled.

Oh man. He scared the Hell out of me.

“Ts fine.” I muttered, trying not to roll my shoulder or retract it closer to my body as I let my hand down. That’s hard when I can feel my shirt catching on the raised circles.

I don’t do real well with people behind me. I’ve gotten better. A lot better. But it still gets me sometimes.

Daryl backed off a little, shifting away. Don’t ask me why but that irks me. I don’t like it.

It feels like that stupid flinch just set back some progress bar I didn’t know about.

“It’s ok if you wanna,” I glanced at my shoulder. I don’t know how I planned to finish that sentence but I guess not finishing it is just as good.

Daryl shook his head, chewing the skin on his lip. The way he does when he feels awkward or hesitant. “Ts fine.”

He focused on his lap, one knee up to his chest picking at his fingernails with his shoulders so tense they’re almost touching his ears.

Oh I know that look. He remembers what’s on my shoulder.

“I mean it.”

He looked at me but didn’t lock eyes for more than a second or 2 at a time. Choosing instead to look all over my face or at the list sitting on my leg.

“It’s time I get used to them.”

He stayed silent for a while before nodding, earnestly.

I didn’t expect him to mumble — just loud enough that I know I was meant to hear it, “Me too.”

I debated for a second before raising my hand and set it on his shoulder.

Then moved on to making the run list for tomorrow in comfortable silence. Daryl and I just sitting next to each other with our shoulders and knees touching while I scribbled.

I hope everyone will be able to decipher my handwriting. I wasn’t being too careful when I probably should have.

* * *

It took a  _ long _ time but it’s finally over.

We’ve got quite the list here. Thankfully most of it we should be able to find in the houses around here; things like toothpaste, mouthwash, tp, etc.

Our food situation is still bothering me.

Feeding a group this size everyday — even rationing — is difficult. And Lori’s eating for two now, which means she can’t eat certain things. She’s gonna be getting sick, she needs medicine, vitamins — we could all use vitamins actually.

I found some daily vitamins in the bathroom this morning, under the sink, but they’re for kids. Carl’s the only one who they’ll be any good for, even Beth’s too old for them to be effective. It’s better than nothing, but still.

We need a Hell of a lot more food — and snow gear. Or we’re not gonna make it.

We need to be smarter about how we prepare it too. I need to raise it with Carol & Lori — who are pretty much our designated meal-makers — that we need to make stuff that’ll keep us full without using too much of our supplies. Soup, pasta, hearty meals. We can’t just keep eating straight out of the cans or we’ll dwindle our resources fast.

Fasting is probably a good idea too, but I’ll have to bring that up with Rick first.

I scrubbed my hands over my face, rubbing my oily skin harshly.

All I want is to lay down and be unconscious for the next 15 hours.

I want a hot 2 hour  _ bath. _ And a warm buffet for dinner.

I want a back massage and soft comfy bed to myself with soft fuzzy blankets and a  _ nice  _ pillow that smells like vanilla and sleep, and I want the smells of sweat and dust and iron to be as far from my mind as wondering whether or not anyone famous is still alive.

I want to go to the Caribbean and find some abandoned mansion on a personal island and claim it as mine. I want a boat too, not just any boat. I want a pirate ship. A proper one. With a black sail and a giant hat with feathers in it.

I will sit on my deck in the middle of the night with a candle, eating pizza and staring up at the stars. Nothing but the crisp ocean air in my lungs and the sound of warm water sloshing around me.

I’ve never been to a hot spring but I want one of those too! A personal one, right on my island. Or maybe a 20 foot deep pool that’s like 10 feet above the water level so the ocean splashes into it at high tide.

And I want the entire island to be self-sufficient. There’ll be lots of fruit plants & trees around that can just grow without me having to do much and they’ll produce fresh fruit almost all year round. And lots of tropical flowers so the whole island has lush color to it and smells incredible. Never like rotting flesh and garbage, or the stench of a city.

“You ok?” Daryl asked, moving to put his hand on my shoulder but hesitated.

After a second he actually went through with it, and I gave him a tired smile.

Fantasies are fun. If only we could live in them.

“I wanna sleep for a thousand years.” I leaned my head back against the bins, closing my eyes.

“You wanna hibernate?” Daryl looked at me; I know because his voice is louder in my ear now.

“Hell. Yes.” I swallowed. “Like a vampire.” I put my teeth over my bottom lip, showing off my canines.

I felt Daryl shake his head next to me. “If you were a vampire life would be a Hell of a lot easier.”

I hummed in agreement. “Just remember I work for pizza and back rubs.”

Daryl snorted.


	142. Chapter 142

“Be careful out there.” Glenn stood at the wooden gate, ready to close it behind us.

I gave him a cheeky smile and held my fist out. When am I ever not careful?

He fist bumped me before I got my babies from their homes at my thighs and spun both in my hands, blade down parallel with my forearm and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

We already checked for the all clear before opening the gate but there’s no harm in double checking.

The thin layer of snow on the ground crunched under my feet as I made my way to the nice, wide neighborhood street.

Being in this place has really given me a few ideas about better places to holeup than anywhere I thought of before.

Richer neighborhoods were not only less populated even before, but everything is bigger, spaced farther, comes with built-in gates and is almost guaranteed full of stuff we can use. At the very least it makes for comfortable relatively safe living for large groups of people. And there’s almost always at least 1 car in the 2-car garages. Fueled up and ready to go. If only they weren’t usually sports cars or really nice flashy vehicles.

Glenn & I almost passed out when we found the lambo in that house two streets over on our search for food.

It makes me wanna cry thinking about it sitting there for the rest of it’s days.

I would have brought it back if I wasn’t positive that Rick would gut it for spare parts. Just like the red camaro. Rest in peace, baby. Rest in peace.

“We should be back before dark.” Rick spoke from behind me, presumably to Glenn.

I felt eyes on me and turned to look over my shoulder, nodding at Glenn as he closed the gate before I met Randall’s eyes.

He looks nervous.

I put a finger to my lips briefly. Call it a preemptive strike at his tendency to talk when he gets jittery.

Daryl walked past me, jerking his head and I spun on my heel, following after him in the direction of the bridge.

I like the spaced out streets. Makes me feel less boxed in, less like I have to pay absolute attention to every foot of my surroundings and second-guess or be skeptical of whether or not I might miss something crucial.

I glanced up at the overcast sky, white and slightly grey indicating it’ll probably snow again today but not until later.

The walk was quiet and for some reason somber. Though it does feel just a little bit like I’m walking through Lord of the Rings. Don’t ask me why.

* * *

The grumbles and moans seem… fainter than the last time Daryl & I came through here. 

I walked up to the bridge, meeting Daryl’s concerned eyes with my own. It put me on my toes if I wasn’t already before. Hmm, I wonder where that expression came from.

I glanced over my shoulder at Rick & Randall, letting them know to be ready without a word.

As soon as we reached it, I watched Daryl’s shoulders relax before getting a look over the railing myself.

Oh.

That makes things easier.

Somehow I forgot what happens to things in water when the temperature drops below freezing.

I stared in gross fascination at the walker-cicles shoulder to shoulder across the entire canal; almost frozen solid. The dusting of snow over every head, like powdered sugar.

“It’s like Turkish delight down there.”

Randall snorted and I bumped my shoulder against Daryl’s. Better be careful, Dixon, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re picking up a thing or two from me.

“Let’s get going.”

Ugh, and you haven’t spent enough, Grimes. Your sense of humor is tanking.

We moved along and I took one last glance at the canal. The walkers are making noise and moving very little but not a whole lot. The muscles must be too tight for them to move much. Couple that with the ice and I’m surprised they’re moving at all. They’re still alive though.

So the laws of thermodynamics still apply, but still no sign of the laws of nature apparently.

* * *

I stood watch at the door while the others searched the small storefront for the remainder of the things on our list.

This part of town is definitely more dangerous even if there’s not a _ ton _ of walkers, it’s way more dense. There are a lot more corners and places for things to hide.

But it’s got what we need.

We’re gonna need bigger bags and probably more hands if we’re gonna take back as much as we need. For now, we’ll have to settle for what we can carry.

And for me, that includes this nice sweatshirt, which I’m gonna put on right now cause I’m freezing my eyelashes into daggers.

I yanked the big black sweatshirt off the shelf and checked the size only briefly before setting my knives down where I can grab them in a heartbeat, and slipped my backpack and jacket off.

I quickly pulled the sweatshirt on, not giving any mind to the fact it’s about 2 sizes too big and quickly got my leather jacket back on. It’s uncomfortable to have the sleeves all bunched up around my arms but I’ll take it over every hair on my arm reaching for the sky.

I swiped the hair out of my face and got my knives back into my hands before even thinking about adjusting the sleeves.

The others finished before that, and we headed out.

A random shiver ran down my spine like someone had dropped ice down my shirt and I tucked my elbows into my sides as far as they’ll go, pulling shoulders in so high they’re practically earmuffs.

“It’s gonna snow soon.” Daryl’s heavy steps crunched the snow as he turned to glance at Rick behind us.

Rick looked around at the surrounding buildings before nodding. “Let’s head back.”

Daryl nodded once and turned, me following in his steps; literally. My feet are cold and my boots are wet, don’t judge me.

A crinkle drew my attention to Rick who’s staring at the list in his hand as he walks, glancing up every few seconds to watch where he’s going.

I took a peek at the list. We found a lot of this stuff but couldn’t take most of it because we’re gonna have to bring the wagon that Carl & Beth found in the shed out back when we first got to this house.

It should be easier to get everything we need in 1 or 2 more runs though. Which is good because it’s starting to snow every few days now and I’ve got this foreboding feeling about a possible ice storm.


	143. Chapter 143

“Eve.”

I stopped mid-step on my way to the kitchen and turned to look at Rick coming down the stairs. “Can I see those notebooks you made again? I want Hershel’s weigh in.”

I nodded and pointed to the living room, taking a detour to it. Rick followed me over to my spot next to Daryl’s.

My knees cracked as I crouched and dug into my backpack and found the notebooks I’ve made all my lists in.

“There you are.” I stood up and spun on my heel finding Hershel at the entryway to the living room as I handed the notebooks over to Rick.

“I was just gettin’ the books from Eve.”

Hershel nodded in understanding before looking around Rick at me. “Would you like to join us for this conversation.”

Ya know, that  _ sounds _ like a question but it really isn’t. That’s like some crazy super power that grandparents/elderly have. The ability to make you do things by pure seniority; phrasing it like you have a choice. I mean, there aren’t many reasons I’d refuse Hershel but it’s still crazy white-beard voodoo chiz.

I followed the two upstairs to the room right across from the one Daryl & I had our talk in.

It’s a sort-of office thing. More like a study room. There’s a comfy little couch under the far 4 pane window, nice view of the backyard. A desk and a table on the wall next to it, lots of bookshelves and some high school/college level textbooks on the shelves along with a lot of other reading material. It’s a decent sized room. The pale green paint on the walls is fading but it’s not a bad shade actually. I kinda like it. It reminds me of grass, natural grass.

If I hadn’t raided that bookstore before, I would be inclined to slip some of these into my backpack.

Too bad I can’t take them all.

“So first thing’s first, I wanna talk about runs. Starting with a new system of how we communicate. Now,” Rick looked at me as I pulled myself up on the desk. “I’ve seen you and Daryl using whistles to signal each other.”

I nodded.

“I wanna implement the same system through the entire group. The quieter and less distinguishable we are, the better.”

Not a bad idea.

“This is a lot of ideas.” Hershel looked at the notebooks, wise eyes wandering over the pages as he picked one up and began turning them. “We should keep the changes simple, one at a time. Won’t be of any use if we can’t adapt them quickly.”

* * *

“Alright, seems like we’ve got things pretty well in hand.” Hershel nodded, finishing his list of the things we’ve decided to reorder.

Rick nodded going to push off the table he’s leaned against.

“Wait a moment, Rick. There’s one more thing I’d like to discuss before we finish.” Hershel clasped his hands in front of him. The way most older gentlemen do when in a formal setting. You know the one hand on the wrist thing? No? Kay.

“Rick, you need to talk to your wife.”

Rick rolled his eyes harder than a teenager getting lectured by his parents. “Hershel— we don’t need to talk about this.”

“No, Rick. You do. It’ll only get worse the longer you leave it. Things like this are like a wound. Leave it undressed and it’ll fester.” Hershel pat his grimy shoulder (pun not intended) and exchanged nods with me before heading out and back downstairs.

Well this is awkward. I was hoping to stay out of this particular wound.

“What do you think?”

I quirked an eyebrow.

“You’ve been awfully quiet about this thing with me and… her.”

I’m always quiet, but the fact you can’t even say your wife’s name is concerning.

“Do… do you think we can come back from this?”

“You’d be surprised what people are capable of when they’re in pain.”

“That’s not an answer.” He shook his head.

I rolled my eyes. “Yes it is.” Oof why did that sound so childish? Like siblings arguing.

Rick sighed through his nose, pushing against the table.

Am I frustrating you? Good. Are we done with this awkward conversation or are you gonna make me get involved in your marital issues?

I watched him for a minute while he wrestled his own brain. Rick, my friend, you are your own worst enemy.

“I didn’t say it would be easy.” I gave him a hint since he’s not getting this. “No one else is gonna say this to you, so as usual—”

“You will.” He looked at me with a knowing half-smile and I stuck my tongue out at him.

He smiled, looking at the materials on the desk. “At least I can always count on you to be honest.”

_ ‘Brutally. _ ’ I half smirked.

“Stop chasing the past. We’ve got no more energy to waste on it. Put your conscience to bed, accept what’s happened, and drop everything that isn’t of immediate concern. A lot of things aren’t possible anymore, readjust your goals.”

“Anything else? You want an espresso while I’m at it?”

“No. I want a hot chocolate with a stack of whipped cream as tall as me, with chocolate shavings and a caramel swirl. Don’t try to out-sass the sass master, white-belt. You got a long way to go before then, rookie.”

Rick smiled, putting his hands up in mock surrender.

“What do you suggest?” He leaned his hip on the table.

My eyebrows knit. “You’re gonna have to be more specific, I have a  _ lot  _ of suggestions for a lot of things. If you couldn’t tell by those nifty little books there.”

“Goals.” Rick swallowed, settling in for a longer more serious conversation. “You said readjust my goals. What goals do you have?”

“Me? I only have 1 goal.”

He looked at me curiously.

“Find a vat of toxic waste and get super powers. Maybe see how well they work against walkers — I mean no one will be guarding these super secret labs anymore. I could just walk in the front door.”

Rick stared at me for a moment before suddenly laughing, failing to keep a straight face.

See? That’s better.

“Seriously though. My only goal is to set my sights on the horizon and roll with what I see coming. Improving my chances against what I don’t.”

Rick nodded, doing that thing where he looks down at his boots with his lips slightly pursed.

“How do you, Glenn, Daryl, all you guys do it? You all keep a level-head no matter what’s going on.”

“Dark humor. Satire.”

Oh he’s serious. I sighed. He’s too noble to be able to make light of the heavy stuff. He seems to have such a hard time with lightening his heart in general. Poor unfortunate soul, burdened with responsibility.

“I’m gonna be straight with you, Rick. You’re not a sheriff anymore. You’re a soldier. We all are. Soldiers get blood on their hands but that doesn’t mean they’ve tainted their honor or tarnished who they are.”

“They do whatever they have to, to get the job done. You don’t have to like it, you don’t need to feel  _ guilty  _ about doing what it takes to survive. Even if it crumbles you from the inside out for awhile.”

I slid off the desk and got all the way to the stairs before his voice at the doorway stopped me.

“How do you know that?  _ Why  _ do you know that? You always seem so unphased by everything. Why is that?”

I licked my lip and looked back. “You want the truth or you want me to lie?”

He remained silent.

“This is easy for me because it’s normal. It’s what I’m used to. It’s what I know.”

His eyes widened. Obviously he didn’t expect to hear this from me of all people but surprises are kinda my thing.

“I’m not like you, Rick. I don’t have any preconceptions of what people “should” be like, or how life is supposed to go. I had to work for my sense of what’s ok and what isn’t but I learned fast. I wasn’t raised by a nice family who taught me what’s good and what’s bad.”

His forehead scrunched in confusion.

“I grew up with the bad apples. The kids who grew up to fill cells, the ones who pinned it on others, and the ones who were too smart to get caught. People hurting people because they  _ want _ to is nothing new to me. I even understand why they do it, because although it was for different reasons I’ve done the same thing a few times in my life.”

Rick shifted.

“The people I hurt deserved it, but there’s always someone out there who would disagree. People who’ve never been in those situations. Never seen people like that firsthand. People who think violence doesn’t have a place, even to defend yourself or others.”

I chuckled, tugging on the wood railing. “You could say we grew up on opposite sides of the fence, you and I. You cuffed people like that, and I … got to the ones who were too smart.”

“But I always admired soldiers.” I picked at the little flakes of the varnish that are beginning to peel up at the seams. “What they stood for. Why they took up something like that, put themselves through Hell, even knowing they might not come back. That they could end up anywhere, lost and never found — willing to take the risk of dying alone in an unfamiliar thankless place to protect what they care about. The people they love, and the place they call home. I didn’t have anyone who’d miss me. so if I’d qualified I probably would’ve been one of them now. Wandering around, eating people alive.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Rick shifted.

I shrugged. Good question. “You asked. And I guess I want you to realize what I’ve always known because remarkably few people figure it out. And you’ve been struggling with what kind of person you are now, with red in your ledger.”

“Grey is more common than black & white, and you get two choices on what kind of person to be. White on the outside and black as oil inside. Or black on the outside but white in here.” My fist gently hit my chest.

“You don’t get to be either for your entire life. You’re gonna have to do things that make you feel like something you’re not, but that doesn’t matter. It’s the percentage that adds up, and you can end up being either half at any given time, because you’re the whole.”

“Now come on, I want food.” I skipped down the staircase.


	144. Chapter 144

Fat puffy flakes like cotton balls drifted from blankets of white. Like someone ripped open a duvet over the entire sky. Scattering the cotton like a broken pearl necklace.

My breath misted in front of me, the snow melting as soon as it landed on my crossed legs and sunk into my jeans a little at a time.

The snowflakes collecting on my eyelashes and in my hair.

I’m cold — can’t feel my fingers — but I don’t wanna go back inside just yet.

It’s been ages since I’ve gotten to just stare at the sky.

“Hey.”

I looked over my shoulder as Carl came and stood next to me.

“What are you doin’ out here?” he looked around and I smiled and pointed up.

He looked up and I watched the confusion on his face as he tried to figure out what I’m looking at.

I pat the ground next to me and flinched back at how cold it is. It was not this wet when I sat down.

Despite that, Carl took my offer and sat down next to me.

I watched his shoes rub dirt off into the snow. His ratty old sneakers that look too small now. The soles are so thin I can almost see his feet moving through them.

“What?” Carl looked down at his foot, almost hitting me in the nose with his sheriff’s hat.

I tapped his shoe with my finger and I was right, I can feel the bottom of his foot.

“You need new shoes.”

Carl’s foot wiggled around. “I’ll put it on the list.”

You know what.

I stood up and dusted my hands off on my wet jeans and offered him a hand. “Let’s go.”

His eyebrows knit together as he took my hand and stood up. “What?”

“There’s a couple houses around here with boys rooms. Let’s go find you a new pair of shoes. And maybe some other stuff.”

“Wait — what about my dad?”

I rolled my eyes. “We’ll be fiiiine. We’re just goin’ next door. We’ll get Glenn and Randall to come too.”

I turned on my heel and Carl followed after me into the house. “I don’t wanna get in trouble.”

I ruffled his hair and winked, giving him a reassuring smile. “Leave it to me.”

* * *

“Just around the neighborhood?” Rick asked for the 2nd time.

I sighed and nodded. I’ve already explained that the kids (the youngest of our group; no matter if they are actually kids or not) all could use a few things that we can find in the houses around us. Plus it’ll give us a chance to double check our surroundings and make sure we haven’t missed anything.  _ And _ give them all a little more experience which they could use.

I have given him more than enough reasons to let us go. I’m being nice by asking in the first place. I would’ve just gone to get the shoes myself — probably after telling Daryl and he’d probably come with me — but still. I’m choosing to respect Rick’s authority because if he challenge him all the time, it’ll undermine him. Especially if I’m taking Carl with me.

Personally, I just wanna get the kids out for awhile. They’ve all seemed kinda down and … like child soldiers as of late. That doesn’t sit right with me — they deserve to have a little fun where we can afford it.

I hope we can find some more comics in these teenagers rooms. I think Carl’s finished all the ones I snatched from the book store.

Rick cocked his hip and stared at me. Why does he look like he doesn’t believe me? I mean he’s smart not to, but even so.

I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt officer, and brush it off as you being nervous about Carl. Just because I’m in a good mood.

“How long will you be out?”

I poked my tongue into my cheek, thinking for a second. “An hour or 2. 3 tops.”

Rick thought for a second before sighing and nodding. “Ok. Be back before dark at the latest. If you’re not back in 2 hours I’mma send someone after you — I mean it.”

I smiled and practically skipped out of the room, almost smacking right into T-Dog.

I gave him an apologetic smile which he waved off before I headed for the front door, where the boys are waiting, + 2 extra.

Glenn gave me a cheeky smile, “I figured Daryl & Beth should come with us too.”

I feel like the fun aunt. Cool.

* * *

I  _ am _ the fun aunt.

I threw a shirt at Glenn for 8th time and watched him pull-off a superhuman duck as it Randall square in the face and Carl & Beth burst into laughter.

I tossed another pair of shoes at Carl for him to try on.

Daryl snorted from his place sitting on the desk. The one he literally pushed the textbooks off of to clear a space when he realized we’re gonna be in here for awhile.

Beth crawled over the clothing scattered bed until she got to the closet with me.

“There’s not really anythin’ else in here.” She poked through it while I held up a blue hoodie in Carl’s direction, trying to eyeball the size. He’s gonna be a teenager soon and  _ every  _ teenager has to have a ratty hoodie at some point. It’s practically a ceremonial robe; a coming of age thing.

Nah, I think this is gonna be too big on him. But … it’s not by much. He could definitely grow into it  _ real _ quick. Boys shoot up like fireworks at the skip of a rock.

You take your eyes off for two seconds and then  _ BAM _ ! Fully grown human. Nature’s weird.

“Hey, I think there’s more stuff under the bed.”

“ _ Wait! _ ” Half the room — myself included flung themselves up. I’m the one who got to her first though and Beth looks like she barely managed to stop herself from screaming at the sudden outburst.

I loosened my grip on her forearm and wrapped my arms around her (awkwardly) and waited until she looked at me before shaking my head.

“Do you know what the rules are for being in a teenage boy’s room?”

“No…?” Beth looked between the guys and back at me, all of them except Daryl blushing madly. Daryl’s just over there snickering while even Carl knows to be embarrassed and he’s not even a teenage boy yet! He probably doesn’t even  _ have _ anything to be awkward or embarrassed about.

“First rule, Beth, and the only one you need to worry about now.  _ Never _ look under the bed.”

“Or the mattress.” Glenn interjected. I nodded with a confirming hum and gave him a thumbs up.

“Or a shoebox in the closet. Especially if there’s shoes on the floor.” Randall interjected. I hummed once again, nodding.

“Why?” Beth asked, looking  _ holy _ confused. You poor inexperienced muffin. “What if there’s somethin’ useful?”

Daryl snorted, almost bursting out laughing himself. “Trust us, there ain’t.”

It’s a teenage boys bedroom. Something useful for anything other than blackmail is gonna be in plain sight where he can grab it easily at any time.

Oo, speaking of which.

I climbed on the desk chair next to Daryl, using his shoulder to steady myself as I stood up. Wow, this bedroom has a weirdly high ceiling. It’s not even a loft bedroom or anything.

“What are you doin’?” Randall asked as I pulled the baseball stuff off the shelf.

A few gloves of different sizes, stacked around a few medals and some small trophies. Probably from different points in this person’s life.

And the baseball bat & cap that look an awful lot like the ones Glenn used to have.

I didn’t even notice he stopped wearing his cap until just now.

Sadly, I think this one’s a little too small for him. Might fit Carl though. Assuming he’s willing to hang up the sheriff’s hat for a game or two.

Daryl took the baseball bat from me without a word, while I grabbed the ball on a little plaque that says ‘First homerun’.

I smiled and tossed it in my hand a few times. It has a nice weight to it. It’s been a long time since I held a baseball. Our time is almost up anyway. If we go back sooner, we can be outside for awhile before dark.

“What d’ya say we head back and play some ball?”


	145. Chapter 145

**3rd Person POV**

“Hey Carol, have you seen Carl?” Lori walked into the kitchen.

Carol thought for a second before shaking her head. “No I haven’t. I haven’t seen a lot of people actually.”

“Where’d everybody go?” Lori didn’t really expect an answer, but Hershel chuckled from the table.

“Don’t worry, honey. Eve, Daryl, and Glenn took the kids out.”

Lori blinked. “What do you mean took them out? Took them  _ where _ ?”

“No need to fret. It’s just to the houses around us. Rick okayed it.” he turned the page in his book. The one he borrowed from Eve last night. It’s a damn fine read, she has good taste.

Lori is still uneasy but she trusts Eve and Daryl. They’ve also got the devil’s luck duo (Eve & Glenn) with them, everything will be fine.

Everyone went about their business, doing laundry, cleaning things, looking at their stock of supplies, taking some time to just be by themselves for awhile because they don’t get nearly as much of that as they’d like, and just generally trying not to think about how long it’ll be until walkers blow through here and force them to move on again.

Nobody noticing the rag-tag group coming back from their excursion to the neighboring houses and heading straight for the backyard. Half of them already throwing the ball around and explaining to those who haven’t played before, how to play baseball. And of course, arguing about who team captains are gonna be.

Ultimately it was decided that Eve & Daryl are not allowed to be on the same team because it would be an unfair advantage, and Eve & Glenn are not allowed to be on the same team because also unfair advantage. So Eve wound up team captain with Carl and Randall, against Glenn as team captain with Daryl & Beth.

Daryl by no means mentioned that he hasn’t played baseball since high school mandatory PE class, and Beth kept it to herself that she played softball in middle school for 2 years.

Randall’s leg isn’t as good as it used to be, but he’s got pretty good aim.

Eve & Glenn collaborated to make new rules for how to play since they don’t have many players and everything was set to go.

Five minutes into the game:  _ pure chaos _ .

All the rules scrambled faster than Randall’s pitch and no one had any idea what anyone was doing anymore.

Everyone was following the rules they remembered but no one knew what  _ anyone  _ else was doing.

They were running, dodging, throwing, ducking, trying not to get hit with the ball, trying to hit the ball, trying to remember what plate was which as they ran between all the designated spots, trying not to run smack into each other. And the first two to fail at that, would be Carl & Glenn, colliding in the middle of the yard. Followed swiftly by Eve & Beth as the blonde was running for 1st(?) base and Eve was catching the ball. While Daryl and Randall laughed at all 4 from the out fields.

“We should’a played kickball instead.” Randall swiped a tear from his eye, trying to catch his breath.

“ _ Hell no _ .” Glenn shouted from the ground, pointing at Randall. “You ever seen Eve with a soccer ball? It’s like playing Mortal Kombat.”

_ ‘Oh, you wanna see mortal kombat? _ ’ Eve helped Beth up and she lunged for Glenn.

Glenn took off like he sat in fire ants — sliding on the grass several times like a spider on roller skates — and played ring around the rosy with Carl, knowing Eve wouldn’t risk hurting him. But it was inevitable she’d catch him. So he only has one card to play to get away with it.

He faked out going to one side and ran for Daryl.

He screamed as he felt Eve’s fingers graze his back before he ran around Daryl and ran for the back door. Except he forgot  _ ooooone  _ little detail.

They’re partners.

Daryl caught Glenn by the back of his shirt before he got even 2 feet and his heels slid on the grass, taking him down screaming like walkers got a hold of him.

Eve tried to put the brakes on but as soon as she dug her heels into the ground like she’d normally do, her gut soared and she slid.

Eve’s feet came out from underneath her like a cartoon character and her shin cracked against her forehead right as her back hit the ground.

Daryl saw what was coming next as she kept sliding and let go of Glenn just in time to get his legs taken out from underneath him by a 100+ lbs living bowling ball. His arms shot out to catch him on the ground and of course one of them slid down and his cheek collided with the ice-cold slush.

Eve’s head spun as she finally stopped and tried to figure out what the Hell just happened but honestly, she has no idea.

She doesn’t know how she ended up half sprawled over Glenn — whose face looks like he’s been elbowed in the nuts — and Daryl’s legs on her stomach, knees first.

“Aggggghhhh” Glenn groaned like he’s gonna puke and Eve curled over, trying to minimize the depth of Daryl’s knees digging into her stomach; not her boot is missing until she made an effort to get off of Glenn and stuck her toes straight into the snow.

A sharp gasp and two shouts of pain later, Daryl pulled her shoe out from underneath his chest as he pushed up onto all fours, trying not to hurt anyone.

He shoved the boot onto her foot before shooting a scowl at the hysterical children losing their minds, crying from laughing so hard.

The back door to the house flew open, slamming against the wall and Daryl jumped, everyone except Glenn & Eve fully aware of the several alarmed and armed adults on the back patio.

“What happened!?” Maggie shouted in a frenzy of panic, her wide brown eyes on Glenn and Eve struggling in the snow-grass slushie, with Daryl pulling Eve off of him.

Eve shivered as soon as Daryl’s ice-cold slush covered hands grabbed hers but smiled in thanks and helped Glenn up too.

“We’re ok.” Glenn called, waving his girlfriend off.

“You should play with us, Maggie.  _ It’ll be fun _ .” Beth smiled and Maggie’s eyebrows furrowed.

* * *

“That is a  _ foul! _ ” Eve shouted as Maggie & Carl booked it for the fence.

Somehow they evolved into playing tag and baseball at the same time. And yes, 2 people have already been hit in the eye and someone slip & slides every 10 seconds.

Good thing they’ve all got their winter gear on, and didn’t put on their new shoes and stuff before playing.

Hershel chuckled from the open upstairs window, watching them all run around like rabbits.

He never thought Daryl would be the type to get wrapped up in a game like this but he and Eve make a great tag-team going after everyone else, and great opposition for each other.

He watched Daryl chase Eve in circles around the yard, everyone else pausing in their running to cheer either on. Eve isn’t nearly as graceful in the slush as on dry land but Daryl is remarkably clumsy as well.

Eve can at least scramble her way out and manages to remain standing 6 times out of 10, but Daryl either has it or doesn’t. When he has it, she doesn’t stand a chance and ends up getting grabbed  _ every _ time. But when he doesn’t, Eve can run like the wind and uses the sliding to her full advantage, skating away like an ice rink, or slipping into an accidental dodge.

Everyone somehow started using each other as shields. Randall pushing Maggie in to Glenn, Beth zooming past Randall cause he’s slower, Glenn “capturing” Eve to use as cannon fodder for both Daryl  _ and _ Carl. And Carl out here just making everyone look bad because he’s only slipped 4 times whilst everyone else has been face or butt down in the snow countless times.

Hershel  _ was _ going to tell them to come on in before they get sick a while ago, but this is the sort of laughter and fun they could use right now.

So instead, he just prepared a few preventatives for when they do. It’s getting dark now, so they’ll be coming in soon anyway. Besides, Eve & Daryl look like they’re just about to give up.

He watched Eve slide again, almost doing the side splits and her hands saving her, just barely getting going again right as Daryl caught her around the waist and lifted her feet off the ground so she can’t get away like she did the last time he caught her.

Daryl let her down and they talked for a second, eyeing Carl across the well trodden and  _ very  _ slippery grass before they fist bumped and Daryl let her go.

He stayed put, taking a breather (she is damn fast even in slush) and just watched the carnage as Eve bolted for Carl and refused to go after anyone else. Pretty soon Glenn, Maggie, and Randall caught on and it was all against 1, everyone trying to help her catch the one person who always gets away.

Carl’s never run so fast in his life. Not even from walkers.

* * *

“What in Sam Hell...” T-Dog watched a trail of red faced, soaking wet, shivering kids come inside, followed by Glenn, Maggie, Eve, and Daryl who weren’t in any better state. All panting hard with the biggest smiles he’s seen since the CDC plastered on their cold-flushed faces.

“What on Earth were you guys doin’ out there?”

Eve grinned at him. “Baseball.”


	146. Chapter 146

I’m really gonna miss this house.

I set the box down in the backseat of my truck and closed the door.

I cupped my cold fingers around my mouth and breathed into my palms, trying to stave off the pins and needles feeling right before it goes numb.

The snow drifting down around me still makes my ears tingle like laying on an ice cube, even though they’re covered by my hair — which needs to be cut again, or I need to find a better method of keeping it out of the way.

This house has been good to us, but tomorrow morning we’re leaving.

It was a nice few weeks here, but all the resources are all gone. We drained this town dry. And we’ve started having to venture so far out to find food that it’s almost not worth coming back.

It’s time to move on. I’m surprised it lasted this long actually, I expected there to be less then there was.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets and went back towards the house. My ears graced by that satisfying crunch under my feet before I got to the porch and stomped the snow off my boots and opened the door.

It’s not much warmer in the house, but at least it’s insulated, and there’s a little tent space-heater we found last week. I didn’t even know they made these until we found it and of course Daryl knew what it was.

When I think about it, it makes perfect sense, but it’s the sort of thing that just didn’t occur to me.

I walked into the living room where the others are gathered up for dinner and smiled at Carl as I headed to my spot on the floor beside Daryl.

I toed off my shoes before sitting down, not wanting to get my jeans wet and then sat criss-cross, accidentally bumping his knee.

Daryl didn’t even move it, though it looks like he almost did before he realized it’s just me.

I smiled gratefully as T-Dog handed me a plate with beans and rice and a little bit of game from the rabbits Daryl & I bagged this morning.

Hey, at least it’s not squirrel.

I ate fast, as usual and was done before anyone else even though I was the last one to start. Instead of getting up and going to do something else, I reached behind me and dragged my backpack over, pulling out the book I’ve been reading for the last 2 days.

I like this. It’s nice to just sit with everyone.

* * *

**Daryl’s POV**

Dinner’s long over but Eve’s so absorbed in that book she hasn’t even noticed. And somehow she’s migrated behind me and has been leaning against my back for like an hour.

I glanced around at the empty room. All the extra boxes that were in here are gone; packed into the cars outside aside from our base supplies that we’ll move tomorrow before we leave.

Everyone else left a while ago, goin’ to their own corners somewhere in the house, aside from Carl who fell asleep on the couch.

I don’t wanna disturb her or nothin’ but I can only sit here picking at my bow and bolts for so long. Must be a good book though, cause she makes noises when she reads, and chews on her finger. She squirms around a lot, and bounces her leg and stuff. 

She was chewing on her sweatshirt strings for a bit when she was still sitting next to me.

I know she’s gotten to a good part when either she gets excited and moves around a lot, or goes really still and I can feel ‘er tense up.

I tried not to lean over too much as I grabbed her wide-open backpack and slid it over. I pulled out one of the 9000 books she’s got in ‘ere and flicked it open to the first chapter. Reading isn’t really my thing, but it’s got a dragon on the front, how bad could it be?

* * *

**3rd Person POV**

3 hours later, Daryl was leant back against the wall, absorbed in his own book while Eve was starting to get cramps in her back and neck from laying on the floor with her head on Daryl’s shin.

T-Dog smiled from the doorway, resisting the urge to shake his head. He never thought he’d see the day a Dixon  _ voluntarily  _ sat down and read a book. But there he is. He even looks like he’s enjoying it; chewing on his thumbnail, staring at the pages, the book really close to him instead of stretched away the way you would for something you don’t want to read.

How on Earth Eve is laying like that though, he’ll never know. She can’t be comfortable like that. Her arm is like half twisted underneath her and her leg looks broken from this angle.

Eve felt a tingly sensation on her forehead and looked up, spotting T-Dog in the doorway.

She smiled and waved and he waved back, before moving back to what he was doing.

Eve finally took that as a good place to stop and put her book down (making sure to bookmark it), groaning in pain as she sat up. Her back is so tight you could bounce a quarter off of it.

Eve stretched and popped her back loud enough that Daryl looked up from his paragraph.

Seeing her stretching her stiff shoulders made him realize how tight his own are and he shifted, rolling his shoulders up and back, trying to loosen the muscles near his shoulders blades without putting his book down. He doesn’t have a bookmark like Eve, and yeah, he actually would like to finish this one. It’s pretty good. Even though it’s about a young girl who met a dragon that collected shoes and then later met another dragon who collects stained glass.

This is the thinnest book in that backpack and he’s still only a handful of chapters in.

It’s like a kids book but also not, at the same time. It’s weird.

“Hey Eve.” Rick walked into the room, keeping his voice low as to not wake Carl.

Eve raised an eyebrow at him as if to say ‘what’s up?’

“Tomorrow morning I want you to take a look at the map and double check our heading. I want your opinion on locations.”

Eve nodded and Rick left as quickly as he came.

‘ _ It’s a shame that all he thinks about now is this stuff. Maybe I should slip one of these into his bag. _ ’ Eve sat her backpack up, which sagged over at some point, almost dumping her books  onto the floor.

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

I sighed, shaking my head and without thinking mumbled, “Sometimes it feels like educating everyone in the art of being on your own.”

“They ain’t teenagers leavin’ home for the first time.” Daryl snorted, searching his pockets and his immediate surroundings for something to use as a bookmark.

“You sure about that?” I gave a skeptical smile in all good fun, and dug into my bag for another construction paper bookmark before crawling over and sitting next to him.

He snorted again and playfully shoved my shoulder with his, taking the bookmark and setting down the book.

‘ _ Ooo Dragon Slippers. One of my favs. Good choice. _ ’

I smiled, actually taking a second to think about this.

“Actually,” I poked my tongue into my cheek. “Most of them have never been on their own.”

Daryl gave me a curious ‘go on’ look.

“Think about it.”

I motioned at the doorway where Rick was just a minute ago. “Rick & Lori got married right out of highschool. Maggie was home from college when  _ it  _ happened. Beth & Carl were still in school, Randall still lived with his parents, most of the rest were married and had kids.”

Daryl stared out the doorway. Actually thinking about it. “Son of a bitch.”

“It’s weird, there’s like generational skips. Cause Hershel ran away at 15 and was on his own, from what he’s told me. But everyone our age aside from us two—” I motioned between us. “—have never actually been on their own.”

Daryl nodded.

“Then there’s Glenn who was on his own and technically but also not technically Maggie, cause she was going to college away from home. And finally there’s the kids who obviously were all still with their parents. I don’t know about T-Dog but I’m pretty sure he’s never been on his own until now either.”

“So like half the group are completely new to this, and it ain’t just cause a lot of us are younger.” Daryl’s face screwed up, almost like he can’t comprehend never having been on your own. And frankly I don’t blame him. I’m having a hard time wrapping  _ my  _ head around it, and I’m the one who thought of it.

It’s so  _ natural _ for me (and him; I assume) to operate like this… I didn’t even notice that we’ve (I’ve) basically been their guide since they (Rick) started losing their minds.

Is that why Daryl & I handled the turn better than anyone else? I’ve been wondering about that for awhile but I just chalked it up to an ‘experience with shitty circumstances’ thing.

Daryl stared at me for a long moment, chewing his bottom lip.

I sat, waiting for him to say something — it looks like he wants to.

* * *

**Daryl’s POV**

I blinked, staring down gold eyes that look completely oblivious to what I just realized. People really are blind to themselves.

I think she’s the  _ only  _ one here, outta all of us, who’s ever been  _ completely  _ alone.

Hershel had his family, Glenn had family. Even  _ I  _ still had my brother. He was gone most of the time, but he was still out there.

“What?” Eve finally asked, after trying to search my eyes and decipher something that wasn’t being asked.

I looked down at my hands, picking at my nails as I shook my head. “Nothin’.”

I keep forgettin’ that Eve didn’t have anyone before this, cause she’s so good at interactin’ with everyone.

She’s the only one ‘ere who didn’t have family — not even close friends from what I know.

She always says stuff like ‘this kid I knew’ and ‘the older/younger kids’ or ‘this girl/guy’.

She never says things like ‘my friend’ when she talks ‘bout the people she grew up with or someone she knew before.

Eve shifted, starting to glance away and do that thing where she sucks on her teeth and bites her lips into her mouth.

I hesitated but I promised myself I’d actually try to get more comfortable, before raising my arm and carefully setting it on her shoulders.

Eve didn’t move but also looked mildly confused for a few seconds before blinking several times and relaxed a lot quicker than I did.


	147. Chapter 147

**Eve’s POV**

I have no idea what prompted this, but I’m not complaining.

‘_ Should I lean against him? Will that make him uncomfortable? _’

I looked to the side and met teal blue eyes, so much darker without the lights, like the ocean at night on a full moon or the crest of a wave with the glowing warm orange of the afternoon sun shining down on it. Matte in the darkness but somehow still shining and washed with something that gives me a strange feeling. Warm but also like I need to say I’m ok.

I leaned into his side. The corners of my lips turning up in a soft smile.

We were silent, staring at each other’s eyes and strangely it doesn’t feel at all awkward. It’s almost like we’re having a conversation that neither of us are aware of, but still understand.

We stayed like that for a little while before somehow unanimously deciding it’s time to read again—

“We should go to sleep.”

…

Maybe, our Eve-speak is not as fluent as I thought.

* * *

Next morning, we had our meeting about where to head next (everyone else did most of the talking) and there’s actually several towns around here and we know this area fairly well already.

There was a little bit of arguing but in the end, we managed to agree that it’s too dangerous to get on the road and try to get very far when we don’t have a way of telling when or how bad it’s gonna snow.

The roads, visibility, and ice alone are already causing all kinds of problems, so it’s best to stick close by and move slower/more carefully than we have after leaving other places.

This house made a great winter base and it’s been effective. So the next town we hit, we’re gonna look specifically for places like it and choose something to hole up in again while we drain the area of resources.

Feels kind of like being a pack of migratory animals. But I mean, can you even argue that we’re not, at this point???

I for one feel much safer moving like this than just drifting along, hoping to catch some luck.

And it’ll be easier on the kids and Lori. She can’t run around like she used to. We can’t risk it now that she’s carrying.

I almost forgot she was pregnant before but she’s showing now. _ Really _showing.

I don’t know _ anything _ about having kids or pregnancy other than how to _ not _ get pregnant and like the basic facts and stuff, and the things I’ve learned from various people in the group since Lori got pregnant. So I have no idea what trimester she’s in or anything like that.

I know it’s weird not knowing these things. Me being a healthy adult woman and all, and having gone through sex ed but to be honest I had greater concerns at the time and I only really retained the sciency side of it. How the baby grows in the uterus and everything, and like cleanliness and stuff.

If I’m being totally honest, pregnancy scares me and makes me weirdly uncomfortable. So I may or may not have actively avoided anything to do with it up to now.

Something about a living thing growing inside one of your organs and syphoning nutrients from your body just flips my stomach. I mean … it’s _ better _ when I don’t think about it being me, and that it’s someone else. But it still kinda freaks me out.

Daryl’s been teasing me about it since he noticed me eyeing Lori’s tummy warily every so often.

I didn’t even realize I was doing it until he started giving me shit for it.

I’m not proud to say unborn babies scare me (they’re fine afterwards) but anyway, I was the first one out of the kitchen as soon as we were done talking and went to do my final sweep of the house to make sure we haven’t forgotten anything.

By the time I was done, everyone was outside and had decided in seating arrangements.

Randall and T-Dog are coming in the truck with me and Daryl, the Grimes’ + Carol are going in the lead car, and the Greene’s + Glenn are in the middle.

I have first driving shift and wherever we end up stopping next, I’ll switch with Daryl and hopefully take me a nap, leaving navigation to Randall and communication to T-Dog.

And that’s exactly what happened.

A half hour later, Glenn flagged a gas station and a horn was briefly tapped. They became the lead car, followed by Rick and I brought up the rear, as usual.

There weren’t many walkers but we got to test out our new quiet communication skills inspired by yours truly.

We filled several cans and found some batteries and other gas station snacks and stuff, which should hold us over long enough to find a place, and I switched with Daryl as soon as we were leaving again.

It was remarkably uneventful. Almost — scarily — routine. But I could really do with more routine. It would be a dream if getting supplies were this easy all the time.

Buuuut it won’t be. Shhh, let me dream.

* * *

I yawned as I stared through the driver-side window. My sleeping bag tucked around me like a blanket and my night vision goggles on, keeping watch.

We couldn’t find a place to stay before dark and we can’t drive around in the dark like this. The risk of getting lost or something happening is too great.

The cars are all parked in the middle of the road, arranged to look like an accident where they’ve been abandoned, just in case.

The plan is to have me keep watch all night instead of shifts since I’m the only one who can see and I slept for like 5 hours today in the car.

What can I say, sleep is my second favorite pastime. The first being watching a walker try to walk _ through _ a tree for 2 hours and a raccoon run up and down its back out of nowhere, chasing something.

That was better than day time television.

Other than that, it’s been quiet. Boring and quiet, just the way we like it. I can watch the stars instead and resist reaching for my books. I’m supposed to be on watch not just staying up.

A forceful gust of wind rustled the leaves, channeling down the street like a funnel and hitting both sides. Bringing flurries of cold white with it.

Looks like we’ll be leading tomorrow. I knew the snow-plow hitch would come in handy.

If there wasn’t 4 of us in here, all of us wrapped up in insulating covers it would _ freezing _ in here. It’s still cold, but we took precautions. Every car has different stuff in it to handle the cold.

Daryl in the passenger seat though, the man has his bare arm against the freezing window and hasn’t moved since he put it there the last time he shifted, and he shifted _ a lot _ before that. At least once an hour, even if it was minor.

His arm is gonna be so cold when he wakes up and I’m not gonna let him live it down, Frosty~

I smiled out the window at the snow gently drifting past my eyelashes on the other side of thin but strong blue glass.

The walkers… am I crazy?

They look like they’re moving slower than usual.

I watched a walker 30-40 feet down the road meander along, dragging her arm behind her, moving from one side of the street to the other without paying any attention to the cars. Which is also weird, because normally they’d be able to smell us from this distance, even inside the cars.

My eyes narrowed, just watching it curiously for what must’ve been half an hour or longer, until it was gone from sight.

I think the snow is dampening their sense of smell.

Maybe not _ just _ that, tree boy didn’t even attempt to go after that raccoon earlier, and can’t seem to tell the difference between the tree and a person. He’s just biting it.

* * *

Several more hours past exactly like this, a walker or two stumbling by here and there but never bothering us, and I almost fell asleep twice but then I stopped needing my goggles to see and soon after, the sky began to turn colors.

As soon as the drivers were all awake and convened outside the vehicles, we decided where to head, did some quick info and supply calculations about how long we can last like this (which isn’t long) and climbed back into the cars, I crashed in the passenger seat; with the intention to be awoken when we find something or need more eyes, or something happens.

* * *

“What about that white one right there on the corner?” T-Dog pointed out the window at yet another house in this neighborhood.

I leaned forward in the backseat behind the driver’s to get a better view.

“Good sight lines.” Daryl glanced at me from the passenger seat and we shared agreeing nods.

“There’s a lot a houses round here. We might find some good stuff.” Randall interjected, glancing at me from his seat behind Daryl.

I nodded and reached over pointing out the window as we passed a house with a view into the background. Where there’s a medium-sized foggy-glassed building.

Randall smiled like a giddy kid and a smirk crawled across my lips.

We’re checkin’ that house _ first. _

“Alright, white one, it is. We can park the truck on the road and back the other two cars into the driveway.” T summed up and we nodded.

“Eve and I will go in first.” Daryl said, getting ready to get out.

I nodded and got ready to get out of the car, knives ready and jackets zipped up. Boots secure and a little bag of road salt to melt the ice that could be clinging at the bottom of the sloped driveway.

“I’ll tell the others.” Randall volunteered and I gave him a quick thumbs up.

“I’ll keep watch in ‘ere in case we need to get out fast.” T-Dog ended.

Daryl nodded. “Keep it runnin’.”


	148. Chapter 148

Clearing the house was quick and easy. No thanks to Daryl.

He may or may not have opened a door and it swung back into a shelf and knocked something glass off, scattering a cloud of razor sharp dust onto the kitchen floor and well, let’s just say it was indicative that there’s nothing in the house.

This house is fairly untouched compared to others. Aside from there not being much left in the cupboards to choose from that hasn’t rotted.

This area must’ve had a heads up the dead were coming and got out.

Daryl looked over my shoulder at the final cupboard I opened and I looked at him with disappointment but not surprise and shook my head.

He nodded, with similar disappointment. Although his comes off a little more irritated.

“If there ain’t no food we should hit a couple of the other houses before dark.” He glanced out the window next to the small dining table at the far end of the smallish kitchen.

I nodded in agreement, sighing as I closed the cupboard and took up my knives again.

Once we finished our sweep, including the cellar, we went to the door and Daryl made a short whistle; giving the all clear for the others to get their frozen booties inside.

Climbing out of the cars, the others started unpacking according to Rick’s direction, only taking in things we’ll need. This house isn’t as secure as the other and we don’t know if this area is safe yet, it’s better if we’re able to peel out of here on a moment’s notice and not lose much, if need be.

“Ey” Daryl grabbed Glenn & Maggie’s attention as they carried two boxes up the steps to the house, while I pulled myself up to sit on the slick black metal railing of the small cement porch. “Grab yer gear and come back out. We’re goin’ on a run.”

“Already?” Glenn asked as he moved past us, not really expecting an answer as he continued into the house. Maggie nodded, tucking her chin into her fully-zipped brown coat, her little red nose poking out.

That’s serious Rudolph vibes right there.

I adjusted my sweatshirt under my leather jacket which is keeping it tight and insulating against my skin but also just a bit uncomfortable when the back rides up around my shoulder blades.

“Ey,” Daryl stopped Rick as the last of the group went past us, and I made sure to reach out and knock the back of Carl’s “Glenn & Maggie are gonna come with us. We’re gonna hit a couple a these houses for food before dark.”

“Ok.” He nodded. “Don’t go too far. Always stay within sight of the house.”

Yes, dad.

I hopped down the stairs with the other 3, forgetting there’s ice on the street and as soon as my heel hit it, I slid.

Daryl grabbed my hand like a lightning strike and Glenn slammed his hands over his mouth, failing miserably to hide his laughter, meanwhile his kind loving girlfriend with a beautiful soul’s hands him my back to  _ help _ me not fall on my ass for what feels like 900dth time since winter began.

“Frozen water and you really don’t mix well.” Thank you for that  _ wonderful _ observation Ace, anything else you’d like to add? Like salt and eyes don’t either?

I gave him the stink eye over my shoulder as Daryl huffed, “That’s it. Yer not allowed to let go of my hand until we cross the street, ya 9 year old.”

I think I’d be more irked about that insult if my brain wasn’t still stuck on the hands thing. And I completely missed Glenn & Maggie smiling at each other behind us.

It feels like a hand warmer in my palm. How are his hands not cold in this weather? Mine are —were.

My face is really warm all of a sudden. Do I have a fever?

I sheathed my knife and touched my forehead, checking and a snicker bubbled up behind me.

I glanced at Glenn & Maggie and this time it’s both of them laughing.

I gave Glenn a ‘what?’ look and he covered his mouth to keep from laughing again, looking around to check for walkers.

I looked at Maggie and she just waved me off, but pointed at Daryl with a face like she  _ really _ wants to wiggle her eyebrows and is barely holding back.

I’ve never held hands with someone before. The corners of my lips turned up. It’s nice.  _ ‘I like it. _ ’

True to his word, his hand didn’t leave mine until we were standing in front of the house with the greenhouse outback. 

He let go and instantly my hand was hit by an icy blast, then again as I took out my knives.

For once, Daryl and I traded places in our roles.

I took point as we moved around the side of the house, seeing as how this’ll be close quarters combat one way or another.

I moved closer to the house, my back facing it as I carefully peered around the corner.

No walkers in the backyard, good news for us.

I took a few steps into the yard, Daryl right behind me, and cautiously approached the greenhouse.

One of the windows on the side is broken but there’s no blood or anything so it wasn’t broken in a struggle. I’d like to say that’s a good sign but it might not be.

I leaned over, looking through the broken window and my hopes for this place took a nosedive.

I glanced at the others, shaking my head. All the plants are dead, either from the cold, or being nibbled on by something that got to them it looks like.

I moved to walk away and follow to the back porch but something broke inside the greenhouse and I whirled around, knives first.

I shared a glance with Daryl before moving closer and peeking through the window again.

He came up next to me to look as well and not a minute passed before I nudged him twice with my elbow and pointed to the back corner. Something smallish and grey is crawling around on the ground.

Daryl raised his crossbow and moved closer. I stepped back out of his way as the tip of his crossbow passed into the greenhouse and then a colt unleashed.

Daryl stood to his full height again and jerked his head towards the house, heading to the greenhouse door.

I nodded, understanding that he’ll catch up and went to the back staircase.

I motioned at Maggie and pointed at my eyes with two fingers, then moved my index in a circle. She nodded and went back down the staircase to keep watch in case we have to get out of here in a hurry.

I locked eyes with Glenn. He nodded at me, placing a hand on the sterling gold handle.

I got ready, taking a deep breath and raised my weapons before nodding at him.

He opened the backdoor slowly, letting me peek inside instead of ripping it open like Rick or the other less experienced runners usually do. This is why I prefer making runs with Glenn.

The backdoor opens into the dining room. The open kitchen immediately to the left and taking up the rest of the back of the house. Directly across from the door is an open doorway that looks like it leads straight into the living room from this angle.

I stepped forward and Glenn opened the door more, letting me slip inside.

I checked behind the kitchen counter that half-separates the two rooms just to be safe, then moved to the doorway.

I was right, it is the living room. A tv covered in dust beside a beige brick fireplace, two tan couches sitting across from one another complete with throw blankets.

Lots of picture frames stacked up on the coffee table, half dismantled and no pictures left in them.

There’s no blood and nowhere really for anything to hide aside from behind the far couch.

I moved in to the right, circling around to pass the fireplace as I checked behind that other couch. From here I can see the other wall isn’t just a wall, it’s a staircase leading up to the second floor and there’s a door at the foot of it, which is wide-open, revealing what looks to be a bedroom; the master I’d guess from the size of the bed.

I carefully moved closer to the stairs, taking note of Glenn and the other 2 moving into the room right across from me before I stepped into the house’s entryway and looked directly up the staircase.

I glanced into the master bedroom and motioned at Glenn and Daryl to go up and Maggie to come with me.

A series of synchronized nods and the boys went up — there’s a frickin’ raccoon hanging from Daryl’s back. It looks like he has a fluffy  _ tail _ .

I bit my lips but hand but had to put the back of my hand over my mouth too.

Maggie and I both shared a look, desperately trying not to laugh, before I jerked my head and moved into the master bedroom.

There’s a walk-in closet and an ensuite bathroom. 2 rooms, 2 girls. A match made in heaven.

I took the bathroom while Maggie took the closet since she has a flashlight for whatever reason. I should get in the habit of carrying one of those too; not just in my backpack.

The bathroom’s layout is open so just a quick glance, a check behind the door and a double check behind the 3/4ths open (you never know), and I finished mine.

Heading back out into the room, Maggie finished hers too, only she has a small stack of blankets in her arm.

I gave her a thumbs up on the good find and left the room, heading back to the kitchen to raid the cupboards. And no my stomach grumbling isn’t what reminded me why we’re here.

Accept I didn’t make it to the kitchen. I paused to look at the fireplace.

I poked my tongue into my cheek and walked closer, inspecting it.

You know… I think this thing actually works as a real fireplace.

I leaned on the brick and carefully ducked my head into the fireplace, looking up.

‘ _ Son of a hockey puck. _ ’

I pulled my head out and turned around as the stairs creaked, Daryl & Glenn appearing from their wonderful journey in the ascended land.

Daryl gave me a curious look and raised his eyebrow before looking at the fireplace.

I smiled, patting the bricks and a second later it visibly dawned on him. And Glenn.

“Does that work?” Glenn pointed as he came over.

I gave a solid nod and his face looks like he could cheer and cry tears of joy.

“You think the smoke will be a problem for walkers?” Maggie scared the crap out of me. I didn’t notice she was in the doorway to the kitchen.

“It should be fine if we keep it low. Enough to keep it warmer but not make much smoke.” Daryl answered as I raised my fist, and he came over to give me a fist bump.

I’ll be able to feel my toes in the morning.

_ ‘I’m so eXCitEd!!!’ _


	149. Chapter 149

Glenn and Maggie ran across the street to get the others while Daryl and I watched the house, and a few minutes later the whole group were busy bees getting re-setup in the new house. This one is smaller but let’s be honest, it feels more comfortable even if it didn’t have the fireplace.

“Ey, come give me a hand with this.” Daryl jerked his head towards the dining room and I nodded, following.

I raised an eyebrow when he picked up a dining room chair and laid it on the ground, putting his boot on the leg and stomped down (Dixon specialty) until it broke off.

Oookay then. Not quite sure what we’re doing but alright.

I grabbed a chair and followed suit, although when I went to stomp the leg off, it took me like 4 tries vs Daryl’s 2 to break it. And  _ I _ had to practically jump on it, not just step down.

I reached down to pick up one of the legs, almost panting.  _ ‘What are these chairs made of, nokia phones? _ ’

I feel like I’m becoming weaker, and clumsier. What’s going on with me? Where’s my head at these days?

“What d’ya think?” Daryl asked, looking at our pile of destroyed kitchen chairs. “Think it’ll be enough for the night?”

Wait — I’m dumb. It’s for the fireplace.

I looked at our pile and my face scrunched, shaking my hand. It  _ might _ but we don’t know how fast this stuff is gonna burn or how long it’ll last. I’d rather be safe than sorry.

Daryl looked around but there’s not much else here we could actually toss in there.

“We could do the shelves in the living room too.” Daryl suggested.

We both turned when the front door opened, my heart beating a little faster with the flicker of a thought that it could be trouble but it settled as familiar voices carried through the house.

A few seconds later, Glenn came through the doorway.

“Hey w— …what are you guys doing?” His eyes wandered the floor of splinters just waiting to happen. It looks like someone throwing a temper tantrum took a baseball bat to the dining room.

“To burn.” Daryl answered, picking up a leg that’s still mostly intact.

Glenn nodded, mouth forming an ‘O’. “Is that gonna be enough? It looks a little… little.”

“Probably not. We’ll do the shelves too,” Daryl moved past me.

“You know I think I saw some wood under the deck out back.” Maggie came around the doorway, behind Glenn. She must’ve been close enough to hear the conversation.

Actual wood would be best but if it’s outside it’s probably wet.

“It’s probably wet, but grab T and let’s bring it inside anyway.” Daryl motioned at us.

Maggie grabbed T-dog and the 5 of us went out back to collect our water logs. We’ll just have to hope there’s nothing on these logs that will burn and mix with the air and cause problems.

I’m not sure about what what types, but I know there’s certain kinds of plants and stuff that will produce toxic fumes if burned. I don’t know if there are any of them in this area — or even this country but I know they exist, that’s enough for me to be cautious about it. Warmth is a bigger issue though, they’ll have to risk it.

“We could dry the wood by the fire while we burn the other stuff inside.” T-Dog let Glenn load up his arms with wood.

I held the door with my foot for them, keeping a good grip on the wood in my hands as everyone faried the wood inside until we had enough to last the night.

As soon as everyone was in, I let the door go and closed it with my hip, before heading into the dark living room. Where Rick and Hershel are taping garbage bags over the windows.

“Did we find any water?” Carol came out of the master bedroom.

“Nah. House is pretty much picked clean.” Rick answered as he held a part of the bag and let Hershel put duct tape over the edge.

“We could get some snow from outside?” Carl suggested, coming down the stairs with Beth and Randall.

Not bad, kiddo.

The 3 of them came into the living room where the couches have been pushed to the walls to make more room for all of us, and I gave Carl a fist bump, tipping his hat a little.

There’s plenty of clean snow out there that we can melt and boil. It won’t be cleaner than bottled water, but it’ll be perfectly drinkable.

“Good thinkin’ son.” Rick praised him and Carl looks like a little happy lizard under a heat lamp.

“You three go with Eve, find something to collect it in and head out front. Remember, try not to get any grass or anything in it.” Rick instructed and I mock saluted before motioning at my little soldiers to come through to the kitchen.

I pat Daryl’s shoulder/back as I slipped past him into the kitchen.

“What should we use?” Beth watched me start opening cupboards.

Aha. I pulled a large pot out of the cupboard next to the stove.

This should do the trick. I spun it my hands and passed it to Carl.

I got out several more, handing them off one at a time until none of the bigger pots remained. Then I dug through the rest of the kitchen until I found the garbage can. A small plastic one underneath the sink, with the bag still in it.

Perfect.

I took the bag out and checked to make sure the inside of it is clean — which it is — before marching out, my little troop following along.

You know, things these days would be a lot more boring if these kids weren’t around.

Collecting the snow took awhile but once we had a few pots of it, it’s technically plenty. The rest is just to preserve and refill our water supply, make sure we have a stockpile just in case. We don’t know how long we’re gonna be here or how much water we’ll need. And it would be nice to have extra and get everyone a warm sponge bath if we can manage.

We don’t want anyone getting sick, especially in the winter, so we need to keep ourselves clean as much as possible.

Not easy when both water and soap are limited, and a group this size hardly has privacy. Good thing a few of us tend to wash up in groups. The girls mostly, Rick & Carl tend to as well, and occasionally Maggie & Glenn if she doesn’t join the other women.

When my garbage can and the rest of the dishes we snatched from the kitchen were all finally full and taken into the house, I shut and locked the door behind us.

Rick and the others finished the bags over the windows in the living room and kitchen; anywhere the light from the fireplace might peek through and giveaway that there are people here.

As if the cars in the driveway don’t already, but we took steps to make sure they’ll still be there.

And watch — I’m guessing — is gonna be upstairs or out of the front windows. Seeing as how the backyard is fenced in everywhere except the sides of the house. One side now housing the cars and the other (the one we snuck down) is in perfect view from these front/side windows.

Security shouldn’t be too difficult. No more than usual at least.

The fire’s already going and Lori found some oven mitts it seems, preparing to boil the water much quicker than I expected.

She’s been a little self-conscious lately about how she can still do her part even though she’s pregnant and most of us — the boys especially — won’t let her do anything straining.

I feel kinda bad for her, but also… I can’t — I’m having a hard time comprehending how she didn’t think this far ahead. I mean, I don’t know much about babies but even I know that unprotected sex = child. Like, it’s not that complicated.

I don’t know. Maybe I’m just ignorant. I’ve never been an emotionally driven person, so I don’t understand making decisions that are based on that.

For me, emotions kind of come and go. Like waves of the ocean. I feel them, and sometimes they’re pretty strong, but they’re temporary things. They don’t stick around, so I tend not to trust them as anything but status updates. They let me know what’s going on with me and then I decide whether or not something needs to be done. Which is usually deciding whether or not it’s important and needs immediate attention, or just waiting them out.

I get she was grieving and all, and everyone grieves differently, but… I still can’t wrap my head around why she chose to do  _ that _ of all things.

Personally, I probably would have killed stuff. A lot of stuff. Gotten mad, etc.

I stepped over Beth’s legs, patting her on the head through her purple knit winter hat and sat down next to Daryl on the couch, letting out an exhausted sigh as I sank in.

I had the urge to pull back, out of his space but he moved his arm over the back of the couch, so you know what. I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna lean against his side and be warm. He’s closer to the fire too and comfy.

It’d be nice to read for awhile, but I don’t wanna get up.


	150. Chapter 150

I ground my teeth, trying not to get up and throw this pot on the coffee table at Carol and Lori in the kitchen.

They’re not doing anything wrong — I  _ know  _ that, it’s just —  _ uggggggh _ . I have been cooped up in this house with for way too long.

‘ _ I’m gonna kill something. And it’s gonna be Hershel if he reads  _ ** _one_ ** _ more bible verse out loud. _ ’

I can only stand to be around people for so long. We’re all up in each other’s space, right on top of each other all day every day — there’s no privacy, I can hear what everyone’s doing at all times of the day. And I swear to god, if I hear Maggie & Glenn going at it one more time, I’m gonna soak their condoms in hot sauce and listen to them scream.

If I’m lucky, they’ll get scared enough to ask Hershel if something’s wrong with their babymakers.

More likely but also equally as acceptable, Glenn will ask someone if condoms can expire and if it burns when they do.

Either way, I win.

I scrubbed my hands over my tired face.

It feels like a lazy day. A day to take a nap and just curl up under this fuzzy blanket that I’ve claimed and read.

I wanna listen to music but there’s no way to. There’s not even an instrument to play. I could whistle I suppose.

I groaned, stretching my back over the couch while I laid down.

If I start whistling someone else is gonna get annoyed. Most of us are 1 incident away from being at each other’s throats.

This house is not big enough for the whole dozen of us. I feel like a carton of eggs. A wild animal trapped in a cage, pacing the edges.

“Hey.” Daryl greeted and I hummed in response.

He came over and lifted my feet up to sit down, setting them on his lap.

“How’s yer hand?” Daryl picked my hand up off my stomach, looking at my purple and blue fingers.

I shrugged, letting him look.

That’s what I get for searching that car without paying enough attention and getting the door slammed shut on my fingers. I think I’ve gotten too used to the alerting sound of snow crunching. Thankfully they didn’t break but it was painful. Still is.

It still kind of amazes me that we actually managed to survive the winter.

I watched Daryl set my hand back down, holding the side, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand in gentle motions. Something he seems to enjoy doing. Just drawing little patterns on my wrists, hands, tracing my veins or following the lines on my palms. Connecting all the tiny little scars like constellations.

He used to only do it after I had a panic attack. In the winter, when all the snow made me feel closed in 24/7 and much more stressed than I should have been. Lately though, it’s just become habit. A calming habit that usually puts me to sleep.

Daryl touched my forehead, brushing my hair off of it.

“Fever’s gone.”

I smiled. What did I tell ya? Just a cold. No need to worry. Now will you please get me out of here? I’m gonna lose my goddamn mind if I have to stay on this couch for another day. Kicking the butts of anyone who sits down to play cards with me for awhile has been fun, but there comes a point when 38 wins in a row is just too many.

I sighed, turning onto my side. Watching out the living room room window as the others are mostly on the front lawn, packing things into the cars. Again.

We’ve gotten so good at this now that it just… we almost don’t bother unpacking anymore. We bring in the bare essentials to a house, stay for maybe 3 nights 4 if it’s a really safe spot with lots of resources, and then we move on again.

It was only meant to be for the winter, but we haven’t gone out of this general area. It feels like we’re playing that game ‘snake’. Just moving in patterns from place to place, scrubbing them dry of resources and then going again.

A few weeks ago, we didn’t even realize that we were actually working our way back to the farm, until Maggie was brought onto map duty.

She got us turned back around and working our way back through the miles and miles of houses we flew past during that long drive to get away from the farm the night after it fell.

We’ve made it all the way back to the place we stayed that first night. Nostalgic. It was so long ago. Like no time at all has passed and at the same time it feels like it’s been an eternity.

I understand why we’re still floating like this, Rick wants to find a place to build a proper base but… honestly, it feels like Georgia is the wrong place to do that.

I don’t understand why we haven’t even talked about better places to make our way to. Places that would be more ideal than here. We could grow and find naturally occuring food in a place that’s more crop-friendly like Florida. We could go where the weather conditions are more mild, like further south but in land enough that hurricanes and stuff shouldn’t be a problem. Hell, we could even head north and find a military bunker to clear out and set up camp in. That’d be a Hell of a lot safer and more stable than random houses. And with Hershel’s green thumb, we could actually set in for the  _ long- _ long haul.

One where we won’t have to worry about everything all at once. We can handle problems as they come at us, one at a time. Our biggest issues will come from heading outside to scavenge and canvas the landscape. A military bunker will have a lot of self-sustainability, resource stock piles, and Hell. There might even be ones that are still occupied by the military. Places that never fell.

I don’t much like the idea of essentially joining the military, but a place like that would be nice.

Just  _ something _ to decrease our constant worries and daily concerns.

I don’t know if I’m stressed, or just done with this, but I don’t like looking ahead the last few weeks. All I can see in the future anymore is just more of  _ this. _

Static.

If it’s just gonna be  _ this _ forever, what’s the point?

We should be trying to improve our lives and our situation every day. We’ve certainly got nothing better to do. And if we can stop scrambling for half a second and get our shit straight, we won’t ever have to scramble again (hopefully).

That sounds like a pipe-dream. 

I groaned, smothering myself in a couch pillow. I’m exhausted, I want a vacation. Where I don’t have to worry about anything.

Preferably somewhere with a beach, warm sand, and a giant comfy bed surrounded by pillows.

T-Dog popped back into the house. “Ey, it’s time to hit the road.”

I groaned but nodded. As soon as Daryl started to stand, I pulled my legs off his lap and forced myself to get up.

Daryl’s hand slipped into mine as we headed out to the truck.

Carl opened the driver side door for me, climbing into the backseat which he’s pretty much claimed as his since about… ohhhh, 3 weeks ago?

I don’t really know why. He just started clinging to me a lot, and I suspect it has something to do with the fact Rick & Lori’s marriage has all but dissolved. They haven’t been speaking to each other for quite awhile and Carl seems to be caught in the middle.

He’s had both of them in contempt for quite awhile now. His dad less so but still. Rick’s been distant with him, probably because he reminds him of Lori, and Lori’s been desperately trying to dig her claws into both of them to keep them from drifting. Yeah, guess how  _ that’s _ going for her.

I don’t mind Carl sticking with me really, but I wish they wouldn’t drag the entire group into their domestic. That’s a lot of added stress that we really don’t need.

I sighed, climbing into the cabin with a little bit of help from Daryl before he went around to the passengers side.

Whatever, there’s no use anyone else dealing with it. It’s their problem that they refuse to solve. The rest of us have enough on our plates as is.

Besides, it’s not like there’s anything we can do about it. As long as people exist, there will be interpersonal problems. And I’ve got more important things to deal with, like finding that giant comfy bed and trying not to think about all the aquariums out there full of dead fish or how there was probably masses of fish eating each other after getting hungry enough. Only to also die in the end when there was finally nothing left.


	151. Chapter 151

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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I guarded the cars with most of the group while Rick, Carl, Glenn, Maggie, T-Dog, Daryl — basically everyone able-bodied except for me breached the house.

The rest of us waited, ready to get out in case it’s a no-go. I kept watch from the truck bed (Randall in the driver’s seat) on the dirt driveway scattered with leaves and on the neighborhood road just in case.

A few minutes later, Rick whistled from the porch of the filthy white house and the others started getting out of the cars; all of them facing out for a quick getaway, just like always.

I stayed put until everyone was out and Randall tossed me the keys, I stuffed the keys in pocket and jumped down, following the others inside just as Daryl came down the stairs — with a dead owl...

I sucked my lips between my teeth. I’m not gonna ask, I’m not even gonna comment. I will however say, there’s no chance of contacting hogwarts anymore.

I followed him to the sitting room with ungly green wooden walls and ceiling and sat in an armchair, which he proceeded to sit on the arm rest, picking the feathers off of his owl.

I picked up one of the feathers twirling it in my fingers and watching Glenn pick a couple granola bars out of our food bag for him and Maggie. Yes we have a food  _ bag _ . Singular. We’ve gotta find more food. All of these houses have been empty or the foot has rotted though.

The only canned thing we’ve found is those 2 that Carl just walked in with, and they’re  _ technically  _ edible but dog food isn’t exactly meant for human consumption.

I watched Rick go over and pick it up from him, looking at the label. And then chuck it at the fireplace like it’s personally offended his royal highness.

Daryl flinched and that made  _ me  _ flinch and put my hand on his back.

Daryl glanced over his shoulder at me after the both of us looked at Rick weirdly. He looks like he’s asking me if I know why he did that, but I shrugged. Hell if I know. He’s been like that for weeks now. Snippy, short tempered, frustrated, and weirdly quiet. He doesn’t share a lot these days, just gives orders and lets the rest of us do the deliberation and then gives the final word. Like war generals and the king.

It’s been like this since Lori hit the last trimester of pregnancy.

I reached for the bag, picking out a little package of fruit snacks and tore it open right as T-Dog tapped his foot on the ground, “Psst”

I looked, along with everyone else, and he jerked his head at the window, standing up with his fire stoker.

Time to go.

I stood, dumping the entire package into my mouth and flicking the wrapper as I pulled my knives and headed out first. The only time I take point anymore is this; when there’s almost guaranteed close-range resistance directly in our path.

And I went straight to the truck, with the rest of the troop right behind me. As soon as all doors in the truck closed, I took off, the other cars right behind us.

This is getting ridiculous.

* * *

The caravan came to a stop and most of us got out, Beth, Carl, and Randall taking watch around us. Beth at the back, Carl at the front, and Randall in the truck bed. While the rest of us crowded around the front of the green car, where Maggie & Glenn laid out the map.

“We got no place left to go.” T-Dog stated.

“When this herd meets up with that one, we’ll be cut off.” Maggie pointed out the big circles indicating the herds we’ve been tracking. “We’ll never make it south.”

“What d’you say it was about 150 head?” Daryl asked Glenn & I, leaning on the hood, across from us.

“That was last week. Could be twice that by now.” Glenn answered, squinting harshly in the sunlight. We gotta get you some sunglasses.

Hershel took a breath, “This river could’ve delayed them. If we move fast, we might have a shot to tear right through this.”

“Yeah but if this group joins with that one, they could spill out this way.” T-Dog argued.

“So we’re blocked.” Maggie stared at the map.

Rick stepped forward, dragging his finger over the map. “Only thing to do is double back at 27 swing toward Greenville.”

“Eh, we picked through that already. It’s like we spent the winter going in circles.”

I have to agree with T. We’ve been making loops all over this area.

“Yeah, I know. I know.” Rick nodded. “At Newnan we’ll push west. Haven’t been through there yet.”

Yeah but how long is this gonna last? If we head back that way then we won’t be able to come back this way. There won’t be anything keeping us going. We’ll have to push all the way back to Atlanta.

“We can’t keep goin’ house to house. Need to find some place to hole up for a few weeks.” Rick stared at the red truck where Lori happens to be staying in, resting.

Hate to burst your bubble Rick, but that’s what we’ve been doing, and as a result there  _ are _ no more places to hole up around here. We’ve picked this area clean, like vultures. There’s nothing but bones left.

“Alright.” T-Dog called it. No one else has a better idea, and I can’t even complain because I don’t either.  _ Yet. _ You can bet your granny’s panties that as soon as I do, that’s what we’ll be doing. Because I only have amazing ideas.

“Is it cool if we get to the creek before we head out? Won’t take long. We gotta fill up on water, we can boil it later.”

“Knock yourself out.” Rick gave T permission as everyone dispersed to get back to their busy schedules.

I followed Daryl to his motorcycle and he grabbed his crossbow.

My eyebrows peeked up. Hunt?

He nodded and I smiled, getting my knives and my paused to grab my sharpening stone out of the side bag on his bike.

He glanced at Rick and then at me with a pensive look. I poked my tongue into my molars, watching the officer talk to Herself for a moment before nodding. It’ll be good for him to get some more experience with us and for the others to have some breathing room from our fearless leader for a bit.

“Hey.” Daryl got his attention as soon as Rick was done talking to Hershel.

“While others wash their panties, let’s go hunt. That owl didn’t exactly hit the spot.”

That’s an understatement. Considering it was only enough for everyone to have  _ one  _ bite, maybe two if your mouth is small.

The three of us headed off into the forest and within a few minutes found some train tracks growing over with weeds that we started following.

Of course I didn’t try to balance on the beams, I’m not a child.

I  _ succeeded _ in balancing.

“That’s a shame.”

I looked up as Daryl spoke and followed his and Rick’s line of sight to the side, through a large gape in the trees. To chain fencing and a yard full of walkers.


	152. Chapter 152

We went out with the intention of finding food, and came back with a couple of rabbits and a new destination.

Rick explained to the others what we found and we didn’t see any holes in the outside fence when we walked around it, so that’s where we’re going.

The sun will be down in a couple hours, so we gotta do this fast.

It’ll take all of us to get inside this place, so we parked the cars on the other side of the canal that runs along one side of the fence, where there’s a little wooden bridge/dock thing that goes across it. Not big enough for vehicles but there’s a road bridge across it farther down.

The entire group took only what we need for the night, just a few backpacks and we left everything else in the cars.

All of us kept guard around Rick while he cut a hole in the fence to the fenced-gravel pathway that separates the prison yard from the outside. A nice and long, wide path convenient for letting all of us run worry-free from this side of the fence to the gate area by the road. Where we’ll bring the cars in through after we see if we can actually do this.

Maggie & Glenn took out a walker coming from our right along the fence while I got the one that mosied over to say hello from the left.

“Watch the backside.” T reminded as Rick got the fence open finally and those closest to the fence started slipping through.

“Got it.” Lori claimed the watch and I nodded at her, letting her know I’m good to go last.

Everyone else slipped through, taking the bags through with them; mainly the guns.

Daryl and Glenn holding the fence apart so it’ll be faster while Lori carefully passed through, being careful of her baby-belly.

As soon as she was through Rick sternly whispered, “ _ Hurry. _ ” at me and T-Dog.

T-Dog went first while I slashed the jaw off of one last walker. I could’ve left it but Rick still has to go through after me, I don’t want to risk it grabbing him. Also we need time to seal it up behind us.

I ducked through smoother than a skipping rock and Rick was right behind me. The second he was through, Daryl and Glenn set to work on binding up the gap with some thick orange cord we’ve been carrying around for a few weeks.

This way nothing will be able to follow us through.

All of us stood around panting, waiting in this safe space until they were finished, and as soon as they were done, we started jogging away from this watch tower at the end here, towards the front entry towers of the prison.

It was a brisk little run but not too bad. I actually like how long the run is, how much space there is. It’s nice having unobstructed sight all around me.

Daryl got to the gate first, and opened it to the little security check point where they would check under cars and stuff before letting a vehicle into the prison.

The grassy yard looks much bigger up close than it did on that hill from the tracks.

I expected there to be more weeds and things growing through the gravel road and paths here but there isn’t really. Bizarre.

There’s a prison bus thats tipped over right on the inside of the vehicle gate. The walkers on the inside of the fence all have dirty denim-blue jumpsuits that look like they were made out reject bed sheets but there’s not actually that many of them.

I’d have expected more given the size of this building. Maybe it’s just that there’s a lot of space and they’re kinda spread out, there’s not a single one that’s within 10 feet of another one, even as they’re all starting to make their way towards us and the fences.

There’s still enough to be risky though. Each one of us will have to take out several to even think about going in there but there’s another problem.

I stood so close to the fence my nose is almost touching it. I can smell the dirty chalky metal like a weightlifter's barbell.

The gate farther up that leads into the paved courtyard, is open, and there’s more walkers coming out of it.

Not so many that it will significantly worsen our odds & risks here but enough — and at a steady enough pace — that it concerns me on a number of levels.

Like how many more walkers are in that yard up there that we can’t see. How fast they’re moving, if they’re heading this way already, if they know we’re here, etc.

I shared a look with Daryl, then Rick. Looks like all 3 of us are aware of the problem.

“It’s perfect.”

—I’m sorry, what?

I stared at Rick.

That is not the word I would have chosen. Potential maybe, but this is a far cry from my definition of ‘perfect’.

Maybe my standards for perfection are just a  _ little _ bit higher than yours, Mr. Officer.

“If we can shut that gate, prevent more from filling the yard. We can pick off these walkers.” Rick pointed around the fences of our little safety square where it’s becoming mighty noisy. Fence shaking, growling, weird breathy noises that sound like someone’s trying to hack up a loogie and failing, or making those “crowd” noises with some  _ loud _ exhaling.

“We’ll take the field by the night.”

If not, we can just stay in here. I don’t exactly feel safe right here but we can camp out for 1 night and finish off the rest of them tomorrow if we need to.

“So how do we shut the gate?” Hershel stepped forward, squinting against the sun.

“I’ll do it. You guys cover for me.” Glenn volunteered.

“No. Suicide run.” Maggie immediately shot it down, shaking her head trying to catch her breath from the run.

“I’m the fastest.” Glenn argued. I’m surprised you have the guts to say that when I’m standing right next to you.

“No, you, Maggie, Randall, and Beth draw as many as you can over there.” Rick pointed to the other side of the pathway we ran up to the side that leads up to the next tower on the corner of the prison. “Pop ‘em through the fence.”

“Daryl, Eve, go back to the other tower. Carol, you’ve become a pretty good shot. Take your time we don’t have a lot of ammo to waste.”

People started moving but I stayed put, poking my tongue into my cheek. Oh I know where this is going.

“Hershel, you and Carl take this tower.”

“Right.” Carl nodded and he & the old timer did as told.

Rick finally settled down, staring at the gate. “I’ll run for the gate.”

I pulled my knives and Rick looked at me. I motioned to the both of us and jerked my chin towards the gate. Two runners is better than one, besides I’m lighter on my feet and quite frankly better than anyone else here at hand-to-hand combat.

I’m the deadliest close-range member we’ve got and there is no room for argument there. I’ve been this way even before Rick joined the group, so he doesn’t have a choice.

Rick knows this. So it’s unsurprising that he nodded in thanks/approval and got ready.

“Ey”

I turned.

“Be careful.” Daryl gave me a pointed look. He’s been really on edge about me being more careful lately. I don’t blame him and I do try, but shit happens.

I nodded and hesitated before giving him a quick peck. I’m still getting used to this. It’s only been a few weeks since we mutually agreed that hugs & stuff aren’t cutting it anymore. So to avoid a catastrophe of impatience, we’ve …upgraded.

He and Carol headed for their tower and I moved up in front of Rick, Lori grabbing the gate into the yard.

We’re lucky this bus is blocking the view of us from the yard or this plan wouldn’t even be possible.

I signaled at Rick for him to let me take the lead here and he nodded, prepping his gun with the improvised flashlight silencer.

I breathed deep, tensing and rolled my shoulders, warming up for quick strikes before nodding at Lori.

She nodded back and quickly but carefully slid the rolling gate open, just enough for the two of us to slip through.

I moved fast, knives ready and immediately coming around the front face of the bus, I sank my knife under a soft chin straight up into a brain.

I yanked it out quickly and moved fast. The fences rattling with the others shouting and most of the walkers stacking up over there getting whacked through it.

My heart pounded, eyes flying between everything that’s moving in our path to the gate. Most of the walkers are on the left side of the path though, the opposite side to the fences where they’re being taken care of.

_ ‘Faster. _ ’

I picked up the pace, running up the gravel path and only jumped slightly when a bolt sank through the head of a walker barely 6 feet from me.

Rick shot the ones around us that are getting too close to us, while the others in the towers were taking care of most of that group on the other side of us; gunshots ringing off all around and spiking my adrenaline.

It feels like being in a warzone.

I sliced through a walker directly in our path, gaining the attention of the 3 others in our way.

I heard something hit the dirt behind me and Rick’s presence felt farther away but as soon as I slowed down to look, he appeared next to me and I heard what sounds like Carol call out “Sorry”.

I’m not gonna think about what she has to apologize for. I’ve got a pretty good guess.

Rick shot the two walkers farther up while I kicked in the knee of the one in front of me, grabbed it’s arm and swung it into the cluster of them clamoring up to us.

I grabbed the gate as Rick was trying to close it and helped push it shut, digging my heels into the dirt to hold it closed while Rick used a makeshift lock made of two giant carabiners and a tough little chain to chain the sliding gate to the non-moving portion.

I kept my eyes over my shoulder sweating more and more as those walkers are getting back up and getting closer until Rick finally turned to start running

I threw my knife at a walker and grabbed the back of his sweat-soaked shirt to stop him from running straight into that just in time.

“ _ It’s too late! _ ” I yanked him back, pulling out my gun and shooting until my clip was spent.

“ _ In here! _ ” Rick grabbed my arm and yanked me to the side, making me miss my shot before yanking open the toxic-waste orange tower door right by the gate and shot what was inside before we both dashed in and pulled the door shut behind us.

I almost tripped on fresh dead limbs and smashed my hands against the dark wall to catch myself.

Pounding on the door drowned the breathless pants in the small room.

I swallowed, trying to restore some kind of moisture to my throat.

“Let’s go.” Rick motioned at the stairs and took them two at a time to the top. I playfully rolled my eyes but followed, taking them 3 at a time, just to be a show off.

When I got to the top, it was like that moment you come up from underwater. That deep breath of fresh cool air.

The late spring wind rushing around me like mischievous wind sprites welcoming me to a secret place.

Rick stood at the railing, sporting a smile bigger than I’ve seen since the day he found his family. With a trusty rifle in his hands.

I checked my empty clip and the chamber on my gun with a smile just as big, and walked behind him around to the side where the door is and used my last shot to get one of the boys at the door before going back around to the side where the door to the inside is, where the stairs down are. I sank down, sitting criss-cross and letting my butt squish into the grated metal floor like it’s the finest chair in all the land and kept watch on the stairs while everyone squeezed off round after round until the field was finally empty; aside from the few boys at our door.

The others shouted and whooped as they collected in the yard, the first few running into the field, not concerned at all with the few walkers left up by us.

I looked over just as Rick let out the biggest sigh of relief I’ve ever heard in my life.

“Finally.” he stared at the field. I haven’t seen the cogs behind his eyes turn like that in a very long time.

He needed this win more than anybody.

I spun around and hung my legs off the side, underneath the rail, staring out at all the open space that now belongs to us.

I can’t wait to just  _ lay _ in that grass. I don’t even care if I get itchy bug bites. I’m gonna lay in it and anyone who tries to stop me is gonna get pulled down next to me.

Randall waved from down below and I grinned, throwing up a peace sign.

* * *

The fire crackled as we all sat around it — well,  _ almost  _ all of us. Daryl’s pacing around on top of that bus by the gate keeping watch, Rick’s wandering the fence line over and over like a caged wild animal, checking for holes. And I’m laying in the grass staring up at the thousands of stars in the sky.

Maggie took charge of dinner for a change, grilling the rabbits. The rifle Carol used today hurt her shoulder pretty bad; she’s been rubbing it every few minutes all evening.

She got up a few minutes ago after the first rabbit was done to take some to Daryl, knowing he won’t eat if someone doesn’t.

I’d do it but it was her thoughtfulness so it’s only fair. And no I’m not just saying that because I don’t want to let my warm skin off this cool grass any time soon.

“Mmm” Glenn hummed. “Just like mom used to make.”

I smiled, a few chuckles gracing my eardrums as a rabbit bone went flying across my vision into the night, never to be seen again.

“Tomorrow we’ll pull the bodies together. Now if we can dig a canal under the fence we’ll have plenty of fresh water.” T-Dog has really become quite a survivalist.

He’s really good about keeping track of our water situation. It’s a little bit freaky, it’s like he knows exactly how much water all of us use.

Not just drinking, like it’s easy to approximate how much water a person needs a day, but water is useful for all sorts of things. The most water gets used for cleaning up, even if we’re only using washcloths to clean our skin or for rinsing a pot we used to make a meal so it doesn’t get gross.

It’s impressive.

“Bethy, sing Paddy Reilly for me.” Hershel asked. “I haven’t heard that I think, since your mother was alive.”

“Daddy not that one, please.” Maggie asked before Beth could even respond. I’m gonna guess happy memories that have become painful, judging by the tone of her voice.

I tilted my head back, looking up at everyone upside down.

“How about uh.. Partin’ Glass?” he suggested instead.

“No one wants to hear.” Beth refused.

“Why not?” Glenn asked.

“Okay.”

Pfft, well that was easy.

I get the feeling that she likes to sing but she thinks we all find it annoying.

I can’t speak for everyone but for me at least it’s quite the opposite actually, if I had an instrument I’d accompany her.

Almost right as the thought crossed my mind, Maggie suddenly joined her and Glenn looked at her like not even he knew she can sing.

I propped myself up on my elbows and turned so I can see her better as Daryl and Carol came back over. I can even see Rick coming back down from the hill by the courtyard.

Daryl sat right behind my head and I let my neck rest over his thigh as he leaned on his hand, the other one picking at the overgrown weedy grass.

“Beautiful.” Hershel complimented his girls, and I couldn’t agree more.

“Better all turn in. I’ll take watch over there. We got a big day tomorrow.” Boooo. Rick you spoil sport. Do you know how long it’s been since we heard music? At least wait a minute before bringing up unpleasant stuff will ya?

“What do you mean?” Glenn asked.

“Look, I know we’re all exhausted. This was a great win.”

Oh great, here comes a speech.

I blew air out of my mouth, looking up at Daryl who glanced down at me. He knows what’s coming too.

“But we gotta push just a little bit more.”

I knew he was gonna say that. You really don’t know the meaning of the word moderation, do you?

“Most of the walkers are dressed and guards and prisoners. Looks like this place fell pretty early. Could mean the supplies may be intact.”

Ok, I admit it, you have a point there. But one more day won’t kill any supplies that are still usable. We don’t even have a strategy for how to safely get to the stuff yet.

“They’d have an infirmary, commissary.”

Oh, he’s thinking about the baby. Ok yeah, I’m smart. That might be a damn good reason to hurry up and establish a safe base.

“An armory?” Daryl asked, interest peeking his voice.

“That would be outside the prison itself, but not too far. Warden's offices would have info on the location. Weapons, food, medicine.” Rick listed. “This place could be a gold mine.”

That’d be nice but I wouldn’t count on such luck.

I turned over to face him and the others a little better.

“We’re dangerously low on ammo.” Hershel reminded. “We’ll run out before we make a dent.”

“That’s why we have to go in there… hand to hand.”

“After all we’ve been through. We can handle it, I  _ know  _ we can.” Rick stressed tiredly. He’s exhausted too but he— gosh, he wants this  _ real _ bad.

I don’t blame him. Given the choice I wouldn’t sleep on this ground longer than I have to but I would rather sleep on this ground than go in there before we’re prepared.

“These assholes don’t stand a chance.” Rick tried to get a reaction out of Carl but it didn’t do much. Carl hasn’t been on very good terms with his parents, the whole Grimes family are kinda strained with each other right now.

That’s why he’s been hanging out with me and Daryl and surprisingly Randall, more.

It’s nice to see Randall and him getting along. Sometimes I look at them and think they could be brothers. Randall’s become a lot more comfortable through the winter, he doesn’t run his mouth anymore which turns out was the reason most of the group was annoyed with him.

He, Beth, and Carl started hanging out together — being the only kids here even though Randall is only a few months younger than Maggie his maturity is still that of a teenager. But I don’t have much room to talk in that arena. Which is why I’ve also been hanging out with the kids.

Carl and Randall are really far apart in age but it’s good for him to have a younger boy he can talk to and hang out with. I felt kinda bad for him before, especially after Sophia…

Rick stood and walked away and Lori got up, they’re probably gonna fight again but I admire her tenacity. She hasn’t given up, she’s been bearing a lot more stress than the rest of us. I’ve been trying to take some of it off where I can but that’s just been sitting with her sometimes, and most effectively, freeing up Carol so she can go be with her. Carol’s got a lot more experience in this area than I do. I can only listen.

I sighed and readjusted my head as I rolled back to look at the sky some more.

Tomorrow’s gonna be  _ fun _ as pop rocks & mouthwash.


	153. Chapter 153

“Ready?” Rick asked as he pulled the carabiner off the gate and pushed it.

T-Dog and I moved in first and took out the 2 walkers that were right inside the gate. The 6 of us stayed in a tight circle formation our backs facing each other and following Rick at the front middle; letting the walkers come to us one by one.

Hershel closed the gate behind us as our presence on this side of the fence drew the attention of everything on the inside of it.

“Get tight! Get tight!” Glenn pressed as the walkers closed in, forcing us to get closer or risk one person getting two walkers on them instead of just one. This strategy only works if all of us deal with 1 at a time.

Shouting and clanging erupted from the fences to my left, the others trying to distract and lure walkers their way and make it so we’re not dealing with all of them ourselves.

Walkers came at us in all directions as we moved forward and anxiety chewed at my nerves but good luck getting through those steel cords of pure willpower and focus. I cultivated these puppies properly.

I made my strikes quick and deadly, dropping bodies as we moved further in one step at a time until we got about halfway in.

“Don’t break rank!” Rick yelled as T-Dog split off.

“We need that!” T grabbed a riot shield off the ground.

“T!  _ T! _ ” Rick shouted as a walker went for T-Dog but he slammed the shield against it sending the walker sprawling onto the ground and ran back to his place up front.

“Maggie! Maggie!” Rick shouted as the brunette split just like T-Dog and shoved a butcher’s knife through the walker’s head.

I covered for her while she made it back to the circle and we continued forward.

“Almost there.” we all moved under a fenced overhead walk that leads from one building to the next, and towards the fence in the back corner of the upper yard; where the walkers have been disappearing and reappearing from since yesterday.

Rick checked behind a rusted orange metal door and went to move forward before suddenly throwing his back against the building and before he could even motion at the rest of us, we were already slamming shoulders against the cement building.

All except Daryl, at the back, who pulled his crossbow up.

I gripped my knives tighter, getting a little concerned about how much blood is on my hands.

I looked up and wanted to smash something.

2 walkers in black full body gear wandered out from behind a dumpster in the far corner and started heading this way.

What is this, a video game? Encountering tougher and tougher mobs as we get closer to the goal.

Daryl moved past me, trying to get close enough to take them out with his bow but I grabbed the side of his jacket as two more walked out right in front of us, and another pair from inside that door Rick checked — clearly not well enough.

I swung my knife first without even thinking and my stomach lurched as it bounced and slid straight off the riot mask.

I stumbled backwards, my instincts leading me as far away from it as possible and just kite it if I can, until I can figure out how to kill it.

“Daryl!” Rick yelled as he rushed one of the geared up walkers and tackled it to the ground into a pile of broken cardboard boxes.

I ducked around this walker and covered Daryl as we ran to Rick. I watched their backs while they got the gate closed and locked, the same way we did the other one yesterday.

But these big guys just won’t go down. Glenn, T, and Maggie kept trying until Maggie pushed on the walker’s head and stabbed straight under its chin, puncturing through something and the walker dropped.

“See that?” she panted. A smile on her lips that in any other situation would look deranged with that blood smeared on her face.

I swung my foot around and slammed into a walker’s chest, using all my force to send it to the ground. I jumped on it, using my knee on its chest to keep it under control while I shoved its head so I can get my blade under it’s helmet.

Within seconds rapid panting filled the space, the only things left standing being the 6 of us.

Daryl and I moved towards each other as we all started heading back.

As we passed under the overwalk, Glenn went to go get the others.

“Stop.” Rick called to him. 

“Well, it looks secure.” Glenn came back, confused.

“Not front the look of that courtyard over there.” Daryl pointed back at the yard we just sealed off. Then at a female walker he killed on the ground. “And that’s a civilian.”

T-Dog leaned against the concrete pillar holding up the center of the overwalk. “So the interior could be overrun with walkers from outside the prison.”

“Well if there’s walls down, what are we gonna do? We can’t rebuild this whole place.”

I mean… it wouldn’t be  _ easy,  _ but if we found the equipment we could just camp outside and rebuild but if we’re gonna do that we might as well build a custom base.

“We can’t risk a blind spot.” Rick looked around. “We have to push in.”

Jesus, ok. Let’s do this.

We followed Rick to a little caged walkway to a door that’ll take us inside the main building.

I stayed at the back as Daryl and Rick moved to the front and opened the door.

Rick moved in first until all of us were inside and Glenn & I closed the door behind us.

Part of me wants to leave it open in case we need to make a fast escape, the other part of me is more wary about things coming in from behind us.

I moved into the large room behind Daryl and we went to the right of this guard tower-station thing, toward the cell block while Maggie and Rick went to the left, to the steps up to the indoor tower.

I tried the gate/door but it’s locked. Daryl tapped my shoulder and I looked over, following his eyes up to Rick, holding up some keys.

Rick came down and unlocked the door letting us all move in, Daryl & I first.

The cellblock has 2 levels, with a staircase on both sides of an upper platform, connected to another guard station.

Daryl and I took the stairs up while they checked the bottom.

A clang from the end of the upper level cells drew our attention and Rick came up the other side of the steps that we had.

The boys went first towards the end, until two walkers locked in the last 2 cells banged against the bars.

I let them deal with those two as I checked the rest and we affirmed that this cell block is clear. With these locked gates all over the place we shouldn’t have to worry about walkers wandering in from deeper inside. And it’s big enough that everybody can have a cell to themselves if they want it.

Maggie and Glenn went out to get the others while the rest of us started dealing with the few bodies left in here.

I helped T-Dog drag them out as the others filed past us into the cell block, looking around our new den with curious threat-scanning eyes.

“You think this place is gonna work?” T asked as he dropped his corpse out of the way, taking a breath while I dragged mine up next to it.

I shrugged as I dropped this one and wiped my forehead with the back of my hand.

Who’s to say. This place is safer than just some house but… prisons are generally designed to keep people  _ in _ not out.

I honestly don’t know how well it’s gonna work out.

It might be safe, but then again it might not be livable either. At the very least that field is nice.

This place gives me the creeps. I don’t know whether it’s the grey walls, the dark atmosphere, the rotting neighbors, the lack of good natural lighting inside, or all of the above but I don’t like it.

After a minute of stalling, I followed T-Dog back inside, just in time to join the conversation.

“What about the rest of the prison?” Hershel asked Rick.

“In the morning, we’ll find the cafeteria and infirmary.”

“We sleep in the cells?” Beth asked.

I froze, looking at the small grey rooms barely the size of handicap bathroom stalls.

A small enclosed space that  _ locks _ from the  _ outside. _

My throat constricted as I swallowed.

“I found some keys on some guards. Daryl has a set too.” Rick looked down at the shiny set in his hand.

“I ain’t sleepin’ in no cage.” Daryl outright refused, from the upper level.

“I’ll take the perch.” He jerked his chin at the upper-level guard station, already walking towards it.

Everyone dispersed to choose their own cells and I jogged up the steps by Daryl as he dragged a mattress out of the cell.

“I assume yer stickin’ with me up ‘ere?” Daryl asked as I set his bag on the mattress.

I nodded, slipping my arms out of my backpack and dropped it before turning around to face the cells.

My teeth sank into my lips as I stared at the ominous cells.

A cold sweat collected on my neck.

I tried to take a step forward and something must’ve gotten switched around because I ended up taking a step  _ back. _

_ Nope— nope nope— _

I turned around opening my mouth but Daryl caught my shoulders as I basically walked into him. “I got it. You don’t gotta go in.”

A grateful smile pulled my cheeks up and I reached my arms around his neck — only just noticing the dried blood on my hands — to give him a hug that he immediately returned. Thank god we got past the awkward hugs phase. I thought it was never gonna end.

The hug wasn’t long and soon enough he let go and went to drag another mattress out of a cell, and I went back down the stairs to find some of the blood rags (specifically designated cloths for cleaning blood off our skin).

I got some from T-Dog who was already passing them out and grabbed my sleeping bag too before getting back up the stairs, just as Daryl finished shoving two mattresses together like a queen sized bed.

I handed him a rag and cleaned my hands off.

I let myself flop onto the bed with an ‘oof’, letting myself sink into the cushy mattress as Daryl laid back too.

Ahhh, this is nice. I can’t believe we have actual beds again.

I set the rag aside and just laid there, closing my eyes. It’s been a long day and it’s not even noon.


	154. Chapter 154

**3rd Person POV**

Eve rolled onto her side and hid her eyes from the light in Daryl’s shoulder.

Daryl looked at her and tried not to move too much, keeping her eyes hidden so she can rest.

Eventually her breaths evened out and he risked shifting a little to check if she was still awake. He moved some of her hair off the side of her neck and let her sleep; trying to get a little rest himself. They’ve still got other stuff to do today.

* * *

A few hours passed before Rick decided they’re gonna go farther in and Daryl put his hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her.

Eve wasn’t really asleep anymore, she was already in that pseudo-awake phase just before actual consciousness but like when you’re just aware enough to refuse to wake up.

Daryl shook her again and she groaned, not wanting to get up. What good is the apocalypse if you can’t sleep in? But eventually she cracked her eyes and rolled off the bed instead of getting up, almost rolling herself straight down the staircase if Daryl hadn’t been standing there to stop her with his knees.

Eve finally got up, refusing to open her eyes all the way as they went downstairs to the room outside the cell block and geared up.

People were talking but Eve wasn’t really listening as she fixed her arms up with some of the riot gear padding. She doesn’t really need anything for protection other than arms and chest. It’s always good to have some more armor on her arms and hands because they got into ‘danger zones’ a lot.

The one thing she did catch was Daryl saying “I ain’t wearin’ this shit.” as he picked up a riot helmet and a piece of slimy scalp dropped out like a cracked egg.

Eve’s stomach rolled and she cleared her throat to avoid gagging.

Carol came out to call Hershel back in for a minute, probably for Lori’s checkup.

After we all finished putting on our new  _ fancy~ _ accessories. We headed for the locked door that should lead to the rest of the cell blocks, deeper into the prison.

Thankfully nothing and no one greeted us, but it’s so dark down here you wouldn’t be able to tell if it was night or die.

Daryl, Rick and I went first with Glenn, Maggie, T-dog, and Hershel covering behind us marking our path with spray paint arrows so we don’t get lost — which would be all too easy.

It’s disturbingly quiet down here and smells like roadkill in a meat locker without power.

Unlike the others Eve pointed her flashlight at the ceiling, letting the light bounce off and put the whole corridor into a dim light instead of being able to see a single spot really well. The others however, continued to aim their lights normally.

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

The hallways are confusing but so far so good.

I turned a corner and gasped. ‘ _ I spoke too soon. _ ’

“ _ Go back! Go! Move! _ ”Rick raised his voice as walkers stumbled towards us. Too many for us to take in this narrow hallway.

I don’t know who is where as we ran like rats in a maze, trying not to trip on decomposing bodies.

It was a blur of adrenaline and shouts right up until I ducked into a side room and everyone else came in behind me, and Daryl helped me pull it shut.

All of us ducking down to avoid being seen.

“Wait, where’s Glenn and Maggie?” Rick whispered urgently as I watched outside the grate on the double doors.

“We have to go back.” Hershel whispered back immediately.

“Which way?” Daryl asked and I felt eyes on the back of my head.

I pointed back the way we came, apparently having been the only one of us who wasn’t just blindly running. I don’t make a habit of doing that. I have a good sense for retracing my own steps.

I nodded at Rick and opened the door as soon as they were all ready to go again.

I lead the way, going back the way we came while I retraced my path in my head.

“Glenn? Maggie?” I can’t tell who whispered but it’s low enough that we should be ok so long as we keep moving.

They have to be somewhere along this path or we’ll never be able to find them down here like this. Glenn’s as smart as I am under these circumstances. He would know better than to stray too far off path unless forced.

I’d bet you two stinky squirrels Glenn would have even headed back to the cell block vs going deeper if he could help it.

Staple rule of getting lost: Go back to mutually familiar territory or a preset rendezvous location.

My entire body jolted as a nightmarish scream pierced the halls and before I knew it, all of us were running back around the corner we had just rounded and my heart stopped cold for a solid second.

A gunshot from Rick’s python rang my ears and the walker on the ground that had grabbed Hershel’s ankle and taken a chunk out of his calf, sagged.

Maggie and Glenn slid around the other corner not half a second later.

“ _ No!”  _ Maggie cried and I burst forward seeing the movement behind her.

Daryl was right next to me as shouting filled the catacombs.

“Rick we’re blocked!” T shouted as walkers spilled at the end of the way we just came from.

“Lead the way!” Daryl shouted at me and I didn’t argue, getting to the front as fast as I could.

Knives up, I ran ahead with Maggie at the front behind me and the rest clamoring to follow while T & Daryl covered the back against the walkers storming after us like a flood. Glenn & Rick dragged Hershel, the air filled with Hershel’s pained screams and Rick’s orders. It’s like a warzone.

Almost immediately I found a set of doors at the end of the hall we’ve been chased down, and a pair of handcuffs gleaming like an interactable lock in a video-game.

“Open the door! Open the door!”

I pulled my gun to shoot it but T-Dog beat me to it with whatever the Hell he’s carrying.

The locks busted off and we fell into the room like a dam break.

As soon as we were in Rick shouted, “Shut the door!” and T-Dog & Daryl slammed it shut.

The chaos didn’t stop there. It lessened only enough for me to actually hear over Hershel’s wails.

“Have you got it?!” Rick shouted while T and Daryl held the doors closed, struggling to get a fireplace poker through the handles and create a better lock than just their backs against the doors.

I dropped to Hershel’s side, ripping Hershel’s pants with my knife like a surgical assistant.

“Hold him down.” Rick ordered as Maggie cried and Glenn & I scrambled to do what we can in the most organized way I’ve ever seen. The emotional centers of my brain shut down a while ago, as soon as survival became a top priority.

“There’s only one way to keep you alive.” Rick took his belt off and picked up the axe.

I grabbed his belt and slid it under Hershel’s leg, Rick pulled it tight and finished the tourniquet while I shelled off my own jacket and folded the sleeve as fast as my hands could, until it was so thick you wouldn’t be able to punch a hole in it without industrial tools, and then shoved it into Hershel’s mouth to protect his tongue from his teeth.

I put all my weight on Hershel’s leg as Glenn held down Hershel’s other side — joined by Daryl not a second later; leaving T to hold the now secured door.

I barely flinched as Rick brought the axe down and the blood splattered my fingers until he’d gotten all the way through the bone and Hershel’s screaming abruptly stopped.  _ All  _ the noise stopped.

“Hoooo...” Rick half stood, processing what he’d just done but it didn’t phase him for long and me even less so.

“He’s bleedin’ out.” Rick declared as he came back, right as I snatched the towel from Glenn’s hands — where did he find this??? — and pressed it against Hershel’s leg.

Something rattled behind me and as soon as I looked up to turn, I caught eyes with Daryl. “ _ Duck. _ ”

Rick and I both dropped, I practically laid on Hershel’s leg, keeping the pressure  _ hard  _ as Daryl stood with his crossbow loaded and aiming behind us.

I stayed down until he moved around us without shooting and as soon as I looked, my eyes widened at the several  _ people _ — living people behind a lunch serving counter with a grate over it.

“Who the Hell are you?” Daryl growled.

“Who the Hell are  _ you? _ ” They demanded back.

“He’s bleedin’ out we gotta go back.” Rick brought my attention back to Hershel who’s more important right now.

“Come around here— put pressure on the knee. Hard  _ hard. _ Push push.” Rick got Glenn to replace me and as soon as I was free, I was on my feet staring down the barrel of my gun beside Daryl.

“Why don’t you come on outta there.  _ Slow and steady _ .” Daryl ordered and they did as told, one by one the startled men in prison uniforms came out where we can see them.

“What happened to him?” the first looked past us at Hershel. Everything about this guy screams gangster. He looks like an actor playing a low-level Mexican cartel boss in a cop tv series.

“He got bit.” Daryl answered.

“ _ Bit? _ ” He pulled a small black revolver out of the front of his waistband and I cocked the hammer on my gun as a threat.

“ _ Whoa — whoa — whoa _ . Easy now.” Daryl’s a lot nicer than me, warning him.

Someone else behind us also cocked their gun; I’m gonna guess T seeing as the others are a bit busy.

The gangster waved his gun back and forth between all 3 of us and I grit my teeth. That behavior putting me on edge — only people who aren’t adept in combat can’t settle on a target like that. That makes him  _ dangerous. _

We need to leave, or get that gun from him before someone gets shot. Even if we have to shoot  _ him. _

“You have medical supplies?” Glenn walked right past them, no f***’s given straight into the back area where they were hiding, completely ignoring the biggest prisoner — who caught my attention immediately — who said, “Whooooa, where do you think you’re goin?”

The door rattled, the growling outside it coming back that I just noticed had stopped at all, and all of the prisoners looked fearfully at the doors.

“Who the Hell are you people anyway?” Mr.Cartel asked, pointing the gun at me but as soon as he locked eyes with me, staring down the barrel of my gun, his piece finally found a target.

I watched his eyelids skitter, unable to decide whether he should blink or not, trying to hold my gaze but too concerned about the rest of the room to do so.

“Don’t look like no rescue team.” A blonde guy behind him who looks like he belongs in a woodsy low-population town spoke.

“Rescue team ‘s what yer waiting for,  _ don’t. _ ” Rick answered as crashes in the back drew their attention again and Glenn came out in a hurry with a metal wheeling table meant for food prep.

“Come on we gotta go! Now come on— Eve get the doors!” As soon as Rick ordered it, I took my eyes off them, running for the doors as I stowed my weapon; quickly flicking the safety back on.

I yanked my knives, spinning them into my grip and stood at the ready while T grabbed his fire poker from the handles.

“Are you crazy don’t open that!” an unfamiliar voice called.

“Yo  _ we got this _ .” T-dog answered him.

I nodded at him and the second the door yanked open I identified 3 walkers. The one in riot gear stumbled in first and T tackled it against the other door.

I flew past him and kicked center-mass, forcing both walkers backwards and out of the way before sinking both knives into two soft skulls one right after the other.

I ran ahead, making sure the path is clear for the make-shift gurney.

I lead the way, breathing hard and almost forgot I need a flashlight to see, which Maggie threw at me as soon as they got out and were following.

She kicked body parts out of the way as I made sure we’re not gonna run straight into a pack of walkers and all go down.

“Keys!” I called as soon as I saw the door to the cellblock up ahead.

Maggie ran to me and got the gate open just as they got to us.

I got inside and got out of the way quick, taking the keys from Maggie so she can be with her father.

Daryl swung around me, putting one leg up on the mess table next to me as he reloaded his crossbow, while T ducked behind the stone pillar supporting the inner guard tower of this first room.

“Gun.” Daryl didn’t need to say more than a word before I stowed and switched out my weapon again, flicking the safety off. I was being kind with the threat earlier. There won’t be a warning this time; not this close to the rest of the group —  _ especially _ not with Beth, Carl, Lori, and now an legless Hershel inside. I will gun these guys down without blinking before they set foot anywhere near that cellblock.

I knew there wouldn’t be but there’s not enough time to close the gate before the first prisoner, Mr.Cartel, peeks his face through the darkness into the light.

All of them slowly came into the room in a near-perfect line, so we can see them all. If they were clustered up it would be a problem.

“That’s far enough.” Daryl

“Cell block C. Cell 4— that’s mine, gringo. Let me in.” If he actually thought that would work in the slightest, he’s dumb enough to actually be a threat.

“Today’s your lucky day fellas. You been pardoned by the state of Georgia, you’re free to go.” Daryl quipped, following him with his crossbow while I aimed at the next biggest threat; the big guy.

“What'cha got goin’ on in there?” Mr.Cartel’s “curiosity” is about to earn him a last meal.

“Ain’t none a yer concern.” Daryl denied.

“Don’t you be tellin’ me what’s my concern.” the guy pulled his gun out again. Which just screams prison-posturing but news flash pal, I’m a heartbeat away from shooting that piece out of your hand just to put that attitude in check. And I  _ absolutely  _ would have, if the biggest guy didn’t speak up.

“Chill man. Dude’s leg is messed up, besides we free now. Why are we still in here?” Big guy might actually not be that bad. He looks big but… no matter how I look at him, I’m not getting any sort of threatening feeling from him at all —the opposite actually.

He’s gotta be like 6’4 and looks like he could hold his own but it’s like ‘gentle giant’ vibes over there. I don’t know how else to put it, but it’s like he would rather just chill and maybe play basketball than fight someone. What’s a guy like him doing in prison?

The skinny shorter african american guy behind Mr.Cartel looks more aggressive. And for some reason he reminds me of G’s “man eating” rat dogs.

“Man’s got a point.” Daryl commented.

“Ye, I gotta check on my old lady.” the second biggest dude, also an african american man — about a foot shorter from the other guy — spoke up. He doesn’t have a super threatening vibe either, neither does blondie (who looks like a 3 musketeer now that he’s in the light and I’ve gotten a better look at him).

What’s with this? It’s like only these front two guys even give a shit about us.

They’re all acting like they don’t believe we’ll shoot them right here without a second thought.

“A group of civilians breaking into a prison they got no business bein’ in? Got me thinkin’ there ain’t no place for us  _ to _ go.”

“Why don’t you go find out.” Daryl shifted a little closer. I can see his hand squeezing the bow. His tolerance for this is running out.

“Maybe we’ll just be goin’ now.” Blondie said and Mr.Cartel immediately cut him off.

“Hey we ain’t leavin’.”

“You ain’t comin’ in neither.” T-Dog came out of hiding, gun cocked.

“This is my house, my rules, I go where I damn well please.”

This is devolving. Rick, where are you. We could really use a mediator right about now.

Daryl and Mr.Cartel started arguing back and forth and I’m honestly at a loss for what to do. If things keep escalating someone’s gonna get shot—

An idea popped into my head and I slowly started taking steps to the side; drifting away from Daryl to an angle where I can shoot this gun out of the prisoner’s hand.

We have the advantage here. These men are stupid for not seeing it. We don’t need to negotiate here. There’s no instance of this where they could win against us.

“I ain’t gonna tell you again!” Daryl, don’t engage with him.

It seems not all of them are stupid. The less-threatening guys seemed to notice me and started backing away a little. I made eye-contact with them just for intimidation sake. If shit goes down, I’d rather have to fight kill as few as possible at any one time. And I’d rather take down the two in the front first without trouble.

“Don’t take another step.” Daryl warned Mr.Cartel who hasn’t even noticed me, but his little shark beside him finally did and I watched his throat bob as he suddenly locked eyes with me; clearly not expecting to.

“I’m gettin’ tired of yer mouth.” Daryl growled, and I can hear his temper about to snap.

“Then why don’t you come over here and shut it!” Mr.Cartel shouted at him.

“Hey hey hey—!” Rick suddenly came around the corner behind Daryl. “Everybody relax. There’s no need for this.”

Oh thank god, Officer friendly here to save the day.

“How many of you in there?” Mr.Cartel jabbed his gun towards the entrance of the cell block.

“Too many for you to handle.” Rick didn’t miss a beat.

I know he sees me but hasn’t looked at me directly on purpose. Better for us if this guy doesn’t realize he’s in check.

“You guys rob a bank or something? Why don’t you take him to a hospital?”

…

I’m sorry,  _ what? _

What did he just say?

I shared looks with T, Daryl, and Rick.

“How long you been locked in that cafeteria?” Rick asked ... delicately.

Mr.Cartel’s eyes shifted between him and Daryl, his grip on the gun readjusting. “Goin’ on like 10 months.”

10  _ months? _

You mean… no. These guys have been  _ here _ all this time? Right from the beginning?

So they — oh my god.  _ They. don’t. know _ .

“Riot broke out. Never seen anything like it.” The big guy shook his head.

“Attica on speed, man.” I have no idea what that means Blondie.

“Ever heard about dudes goin’ cannibal? Dyin’, comin’ back to life. Crazy.”

Hmmm… nah. Doesn’t ring a bell.

“One guard looked out for us, locked us up in the cafeteria. Told us to sit tight, threw me this piece said he’d be right back.”

Something tells me he gave the gun to someone else and you decided it was yours.

“Yeah, that was 292 days ago.”

“94 according to my count—”

“Shut up!” Mr.Cartel cut Blondie off.

“We been thinkin’ the army or the national guard should be showin’ up any day now.”

Ohhhhhh if only that were true.

“There is no army.” Rick broke the news.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s no government,” Rick shook his head. “No hospitals, no police. ...It’s all gone.”

“...For real?” Blondie asked.

“Serious.” Rick nodded.

“What about my moms?”

Wait what? Did he say  _ moms? _ Ohhhhh, that would explain a few things.

“And my kids? And my old lady? Y—yo, you got a cellphone or something that we can call our families?” 2nd biggest guy stepped forward but I didn’t aim at him because it wasn’t threatening.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” Daryl stepped closer my direction.

“No phones, no computers.” Rick answered before another fight could start. “As far as we can see at least half the population’s been wiped out. Probably more.”

_ Way _ more. If even a 3rd of the population was left we’d be running into survivors more often. The military would probably still have significant presence as well. The government is — was — incredibly well protected. If even they were overrun well… those who have survived are only those who have the most  _ luck _ .

I watched their faces as they all processed this.

“Ain’t no way.” Mr.Cartel looked at them in disbelief.

Dude if this was a joke, would we seriously be  _ here  _ right now?

“See for yourself.” Rick used his bloody machete to gesture towards the door behind me.


	155. Chapter 155

As soon as Mr.Cartel turned he jumped, and I resisted the urge to smile as I lowered my gun, stepping out of the way towards Daryl.

I stowed my gun but kept my hand on it as the prisoners went out into the yard and followed Rick and the others out after them.

“Damn the sun feels good.” the second biggest guy stretched his arms as everyone walked into the yard.

I ignored the conversation mostly and just watched the prisoners until the big guy picked up a stick and started poking at a body on the ground.

“So what is this like a disease?”

“Yeah, and we’re all infected.” Rick answered and they all looked at him.

“What you mean infected? Like AIDS or somethin?” the one white boy of their group turned around, crossing his arms insecurely. No matter how I look at him, he looks like someone who just walked out of the confederate army.

“If I was to kill you, shoot an arrow in your chest. You’d come back as one a these things.” Daryl pointed to the body the big guy was poking. “It’s gonna happen to all of us.”

“Ain’t no way these robin hood caps are responsible for killin’ all these freaks.” Mr.Cartel shook his head, not believing us for a second.

“Must be 50 bodies out here.”

Good. Keep that underestimation up.

“Where’d you come from?” He walked towards Rick.

“Atlanta.” Rick answered, his machete held loosely in his hand. To anyone else it would look like he’s just holding it but the rest of us know that hold, we do it ourselves. It’s the hold where you could tighten your grip at a moment’s notice and just swing it as hard as you need to.

“Where you headed?” he stalked towards Rick until he was almost exactly a meter from him.

“For now, nowhere.” Rick shifted his weight into a more action-prone stance. The sort of stance you take when you’re not gonna throw the first hit but you will damn well dodge and return serve with a snap of your fingers.

“I guess you could take that area down there by the water. Should be comfortable.”

Aha, you say that like you have a say in what we do.

“We’re using that field for crops.” Rick denied calmly.

“We’ll help you move your gear out.”

This is hilarious. You can  _ see _ the ego around this guy but I’d bet you that if we stuck him on the other side of these fences he wouldn’t last ten minutes.

He might be able to hit a few walkers. Then he’d get over confident until that gun of his runs out of bullets. Then he’ll get swarmed and go down just like everybody else who doesn’t recognize their own limits.

“That won’t be necessary.” Rick answered just as even as before. “We took out these walkers, this prison is ours.”

Well, worst case scenario, we can take all of these guys out right now if we have to.

Shoot Mr.Cartel first and they’ve got no other weapons, the rest of us have guns and  _ way _ more life and death fight experience.

“Slow down, cowboy.”

“You snatched the locks off our doors.” The smallest (and second most aggressive) guy stepped up behind Mr.Cartel, like a little lap dog that thinks it’s mean and tough.

“We’ll give you new locks if that’s how you want it.” Rick turned it back on him.

This is like watching toddlers argue with an adult about why they should get to drive the car.

“This is  _ our  _ prison. We were here first.” Mr.Cartel spread his arms out.

The simple truth is, they all would’ve died sooner or later. Starvation or by miraculously getting out of that room and straight into the nested maze of walkers that they’d have had no way to fight off.

If we hadn’t come along, there’s almost no chance any of them would’ve made it out of that room alive.

“Locked in the broom closet?” Rick scoffed. “We took it, set you free. It’s  _ ours _ , we spilt blood.”

“We’re moving back into our cell block.” Does this guy have selective hearing or something?

“You’ll have to get your own.” Rick fired back immediately, voice dangerously level.

“ _ It is mine _ . I’ve still got personal artifacts in there. That’s about as mine as it gets!” He pulled his gun and in the span of a single breath, I yanked my own piece out, Daryl had his crossbow on him, T-Dog had his gun out and was right behind Rick, and Rick stood there without having moved so much as a muscle.

“Whoa whoa whoa—” Blondie jumped between them. “Maybe let’s try to make this work out so everybody wins.”

“I don’t see that happenin’.” Mr.Cartel stared Rick down.

“Neither do I.” Rick looked up from his thinkin’ face. I spied his hand resting on his python. Rick has one of the quickest draws I’ve ever seen, if he decides to shoot this guy, he won’t stand a chance.

“I ain’t goin’ back in that cafeteria for one more minute.”

“There are other cell blocks.” Blondie tried to reason with Mr.Cartel.

An admirable effort.

He doesn’t seem to want to fight us, and the two biggest guys look like they’re staying out of this as well.

“You could  _ leave _ .” Daryl piped up next to me. “Try your luck out on the _ road _ .”

...Normally I’d be with you on this, Daryl. But something tells me it’s not a good idea to let these guys out of our sight. Best they stay where we can see them.

Mr.Cartel looked around, thinking. His eyes landing on the blood stains on all of our clothes and the weapons in our hands.

“If these 3 pussies and the woman can do all this, the least we can do is take out another cell block.”

And fear of the unknown wins again.

“With what?” the big guy asked. Unlike Mr.Cartel here who wants nothing more than to stay in his “territory” like a proper gangster, he looks like he would rather leave than go back inside.

“Atlanta here will spot us some real weapons. Won’t ya, boss?” I can’t tell if that’s a challenge, another pointless demand, or a poor trick to get us to give them more guns.

Rick stood silent for a moment. “How stocked is that cafeteria? IT must have plenty of food, 5 guys lasting almost a year.”

“Sure as Hell don’t look like anybody’s been  _ starvin. _ ” Daryl chimed in.

“There’s only a little left.” Mr.Cartel answered.

“We’ll take half.” Rick stated. “In exchange, we’ll help clear out a cell block.”

Sounds like a fair deal to me. So what’s gonna go wrong this time?

“Didn’t you hear him? There’s only a little left.” Shut your trap Yippie. You’re worse than an unhouse-trained rat dog.

“Bet you got more food than you got choices.” Rick put him down and turned his eyes back to the leader. “You pay we’ll play. We’ll clear out a block for you, then you keep to it.”

“Alright.” Mr.Cartel nodded.

“But let’s be clear. If we see you out here,  _ anywhere near _ our people if I so much as even catch a whiff of your scent,” Rick stepped right up to him. “ _ I will  _ ** _kill _ ** _ you. _ ”

Mr. Cartel stared back at him, his jaw flexing slightly as he clenched his teeth. “ _ Deal _ .”

There are so many holes in this arrangement.

* * *

“Pantry’s back here.” Mr.Cartel called as the rest of the prisoners filed into the room ahead of us.

“You never tried to break out of here?” T-Dog asked, curiously as we entered the room.

“We tried to take the doors off. But if you make one peep in here, then those freaks would be lined up outside growlin’, tryna get in.” The second biggest guy — Oscar, as I’ve learned — answered. “Windows got bars that He-Man couldn’t get through.”

What’s a He-man? That sounds like a bad superhero name.

“Bigger than a 5x8.” Axel (Blondie) added a positive note.

“You won’t find me complaining. I’m doin’ 15, my left leg would barely fit on one a those bunks.” The biggest guy shrugged. I can’t even imagine what it must’ve been like to have to  _ live  _ in a room that size.

“Yeah that don’t call him Big Tiny for nothing.” Thank you Oscar, I can finally stop calling him ‘the big guy’.

“We done jerkin’ each other off. Sick a waitin’ back here.” Mr.Cartel stuck his head back in from the doorway they all came out of when we first crashed into this room with Hershel.

The prisoners filed in and I saw Rick delibrately put his hand on his gun before following.

Daryl bumped my shoulder with his and jerked his head towards the door.

I nodded, knowing he’s being pretty protective of me being too near these guys, since the stand off earlier.

I’ll let it go this time since someone’s gotta watch the door anyway, and I would actually prefer to stand in the more… open space. This place is claustrophobic enough for me.

I picked up my night vision goggles from the makeshift lanyard around my neck, keeping one knife in my hand and using my ears to keep an eye on the others in the back.

Only reason I feel comfortable enough to take my eyes off them is because T-Dog is still between me and them back there.

I watched the halls through the goggles which I  _ should _ have been using last time but decided not to bring because I’d be the only person able to see and the flashlights of the others would be too much of a risk for blinding me.

Not this time though. Those flashlights were a mistake. The moving light was like a walker equivalent of using a laser pointer with a house full of cats.

A few minutes later and Daryl came over by me.

“Rick & T are gettin the food. Me and you are takin’ this lot to get weapons and teach ‘em how to kill walkers.” He motioned at the prisoners.

I nodded, watching Rick pass some boxes of giant cans to T-Dog and my eyes bulged out of my skull.

Oh my god are those  _ industrial sized  _ canned goods?

Holy monkeys on a stick — we won’t have to do runs for… I can’t even do the math right now.

“We’ll be good for  _ weeks _ . There’s a lot more where this came from.” T-Dog winked at me.

My jaw dropped with a smile in pure elation.

No more desperate searching, we can take our time to scope things out and bring food we find back safely instead of having to risk it all or nothing every time we go out.

Oh this is gonna take so much strain off of our shoulders.

The walls and secure doors, the food. Rick was right. This place was a gold mine.

It feels like we’re being paid for our suffering and for taking the chance on this place even though it wasn’t easy.

The only things that could make this better is if we found ammo and medical supplies too.

And if we didn’t have these prisoners to deal with.

To be fair though, if we found all of that and there wasn’t some kind of hurdles we had to jump to get it, I’d be skeptical to think something wasn’t headed our way to balance out our good fortune.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Daryl pushed off the doorway at Rick’s voice and I handed him my goggles before the two of them took the lead, the prisoners in the middle, while I waited for T-Dog and brought up the rear.

Rick carried a few bags of what is that flour? Wheat? I don’t know. While T-Dog carried a few of those boxes filled with cans as big as my head.

I kept a close eye on Mr.Cartel or  _ Thomas _ I think someone called him, and the other aggressive guy. I’m not actually too concerned about the other prisoners. I don’t think they’ll do anything on their own, but if one of those 2 makes a move they’ll probably follow just because they don’t know us.

* * *

“Why does she have  _ two  _ knives?” Axel muttered to T-Dog in the dark hallway as we ventured through the tombs again, further than we’ve gone before.

T-Dog scoffed quietly. “Trust me man, if shit hits the fan, you’ll find out.”

Rick shushed them as we crept around the corner of a hallway.

“Man, it’s too damn dark in here.” Oscar (second biggest guy) up front complained.

“Gotta hold it up high. Out in front of you. You’re gonna hear ‘em before you see ‘em.” Daryl scolded him.

“It’s comin’!” Axel practically shouted in front of me and Rick immediately shushed him.

Daryl held up his hand and everyone stopped. The shuffling echoed off the walls but there can’t be that many of them with such a low volume.

I watched the silhouette of his fingers counting up as two walkers came shuffling around the corner. He didn’t even make it to 2 before I jumped, someone starting a frickin’  _ battlecry _ and all of the prisoners rushed forward.

_ You  _ ** _can’t _ ** _ be serious. _

I watched, absolutely dumbfounded as they went 100% prison gang on two walkers, leaving the 4 of us veteran slayers standing here exchanging looks.

They’re not even going for the head like we told them to — Axel is trying to  _ shank _ a walker’s gut to  _ kill it _ ….

Are they just thick or have my teaching skills fallen  _ that _ far?


	156. Chapter 156

“It’s gotta be the brain. Not the stomach, not the heart.  _ The brain. _ ” Daryl shot a bolt through a walkers skull as it wandered around the corner into the doorway of the little cross-section room thing that we’re all piled in.

“I hear you. The brain.” Axel repeated. He’s a little slow on the uptake but I would be concerned if they weren’t.

These guys haven’t had to do any killing yet, but they  _ were  _ prisoners. There’s the entire possibility that one or more of them  _ have  _ killed someone before and I’m working on narrowing down who. Thomas is at the top of the list. Axel at the bottom.

I stood at the back next to Big Tiny, there’s no way I’m letting anyone else watch our backs. Not with these guys who can’t even kill walkers yet.

Oscar (the second biggest guy) stepped forward and whacked the next walker with the axe. “Like that?”

“Uh-huh” Daryl nodded as the man backed up, returning to formation.

I feel like a parent teaching kids how to ride bikes or swim. It’s kinda refreshing in a way but not enough to negate the danger of them not being able to handle life-threatening situations.

The 4 of us are  _ really _ putting our necks close to the branding iron to try and teach them here.

Maybe we should’ve started with the fences. Get them used to  _ how _ you kill them and then graduate to ‘when they’re coming at you’.

I sighed. Oh well, too late now.

Rick stepped forward and stabbed a walker through the eyes, then moved back to his position. “Stay in tight formation, no more prison riot crap.”

As more walkers came in, I noticed Big Tiny backing up.

Uh oh

I acted fast and grabbed a walker by the back of the jumpsuit and held it in place.

His scared eyes met mine and I nodded to the flailing walker, trying to watch my own back while I help him overcome the skittish behavior that could cost him a life. Either his own, or someone else’s.

I looked back just as he whacked it with the hammer in his hand.

I let go as it dropped and gave the big man a thumbs up and an encouraging nod.

I’m weirdly proud of him, especially when he took the next walker that started coming from our left on his own without help.

It’s been so long since I’ve seen anyone kill their first walker, it’s easy to forget how difficult it used to be.

I stabbed a walker up through it’s chin as it started getting a little too much for Tiny to handle on his own. He’s doing well though.

Right as the thought crossed my mind, I spotted a walker behind him with a bloody  _ claw _ in the air.

There’s no time to warn him.

I threw my shoulder in the walker in front of me, pushing it forwards and the second I was far enough to get around him, I threw one of my knives.

The walker’s arm whipped back as the blade severed it’s fingers off and hit the concrete wall with a loud  _ ‘clang’ _ bouncing off and hitting the ground with another.

Tiny whipped around, screaming as soon as he saw the walker  _ right _ next to him with it’s jaws snapping for his arm.

Rick swung around as soon as he heard the scream and rushed to kill the walker and help Tiny while I struggled with the one that’s got its arms around me now, trying to take my ear off.

I craned my neck as far away from it as I could as I slammed it into the wall, trying to get my hand with my knife unpinned from its chest without slicing myself.

A gunshot startled me and then a gun came into my field of vision right beside the walker’s head, before I could even gasp, pain crackled like lightning had struck my eardrums.

My ears rang like two microphones pressed together and flat-lined every other sound as the walker dropped as I staggered, my eyes squeezing shut as my knife slipped from my hand and I cupped my ear without even thinking.

I forced my eyes open, panting as I desperately searched for the threat while my vision swam, warping the dark hall, and the only prisoner with a gun standing in front of me with blood splattered over his face and I froze.

My hand started to tremble at my side. I stopped breathing.

My eyes wouldn’t move even when my washy hearing cleared just enough for me to hear like I’m underwater, even when Rick stepped between us.

They’re following me. Everywhere I go, through my whole life.

_ Those eyes. _

* * *

**3rd Person POV**

Daryl pushed past Rick without a second thought, going to Eve’s side as she held her ear.

Rick stared Thomas down, glancing at the bodies on the ground that he shot  _ right _ past Rick and dangerously close to Eve’s head.

Daryl tried to talk to Eve but she couldn’t hear him and she wouldn’t look at him.

She was frozen with her gun in her hand gripped so tightly her knuckles grew whiter than lilies, and Daryl’s seen this once before. The only time she  _ ever _ seems shook up enough to grab her gun when she should know a gun isn’t a good idea.

He moved in front of her, the look in his sharp blue eyes nothing short of barely contained fury as he glared down Thomas over Rick’s shoulder.

Big Tiny looked between everyone, unsure of what to do or what’s even happening.

“Let’s keep going.” T-Dog finally broke the silence. The sooner they get to that cell block, the better.

He motioned at Oscar and the other guys and brushed past Rick and Daryl, taking a quick glance at Eve before leading down the hallway with his flashlight up and Oscar taking point with him.

As the rest started moving out, Rick kept his eyes firmly on Thomas and made sure that he was in his line of sight at all times.

Big Tiny let everyone pass him except for Daryl and the woman whose name he’s yet to learn.

He debated for a second before he leaned down and picked up her knife, the one she’d saved him.

“Thank you.” He said, truly grateful as he held it out; having the distinct impression that he should let either of them take it.

He was a little surprised when Daryl took it, nodding in acknowledgement, and put it straight into Eve’s hand.

As if that triggered something, Eve snapped out of whatever daze she had been in and gripped the knife.

She flashed a somewhat forced smile at Big Tiny before he followed after the others and finally noticed the gun in her hand.

Daryl stepped to the side, careful not to leave her line of sight as he picked up her other knife and handed it to her.

She smiled gratefully as she stowed her gun, almost forgetting to make sure the safety is on. It wasn’t.

She stared down at her hands like foreign entities, watching the tremors.

Daryl stopped himself from retracting his hand as he touched her arm and she flinched, immediately looking at him. She didn’t need to say a thing, this time he knows what spooked her.

“I know. I saw it too.”

Daryl glanced around and hung his crossbow from his shoulder by the weathering strap.

He wouldn’t risk it right now if it wasn’t important.

Eve tried not to flinch as Daryl took her hands, but she couldn’t help it.

It didn’t make her comfortable but she retracted her hand one by one long enough to put her knives away, looking around first to make sure it’s ok to do so.

More importantly, to make sure  _ he _ is long gone.

The rest were halfway down the hallway, dealing with the next small group of walkers so they have a little bit of time before they need to catch up.

It doesn’t sit well with him leaving Rick & T with them but they can handle themselves for just one minute.

“Ey, look at me.” Daryl spoke gently. Eve tried but couldn’t keep her eyes from moving around, and he knew she was using her ears when she finally did stop looking around wildly. Her hearing is still a little washed out but she can make out words at least now.

“ _ Breathe, Evelyn. _ ”

Eve wasn’t having a panic attack but the sound of her full name completely derailed everything going through her head and she finally gave him her full attention.

Daryl could have laughed at the look on her face. Almost offended at her own name, and that she actually had to take a second to realize it’s hers.

Daryl have her hand a squeeze, tracking her breaths to see if they’ve returned to normal.

“You good?”

Eve opened her mouth, only to say nothing and tongue her molars instead.

_ ‘Wearily enough, yeah. I’m fine. _ ’ She nodded, still not entirely sure what just happened.

_ ‘What the Balrog — how did you do that? _ ’ Eve stared at him in genuine bewilderment.

‘ _ I don’t know what I just did but I gotta remember that for next time. _ ’ Daryl let go of her hands and let them slide out of his. Not even bothered by the amount of grime and sweat on both of them.

As much as he wouldn’t mind just standing here for a bit longer, they gotta catch up.

Eve took her knives out again as soon as the warmth from his hands disappeared while Daryl shrugged down his crossbow back into his grip.

The two of them lightly jogged to catch up just as everyone finished the last of the walkers and started to move down the hall again.

Quiet grimy steps bounced off the narrow dark halls as they caught up to Rick at the back and slowed to a walk just behind him. The others walking slightly ahead of the 3 as Rick kept his eyes on Thomas.

“You see the look on his face?” Daryl muttered lowly to Rick. He didn’t warn him about Shane even after he talked to Eve, he’s not gonna make the same mistake. She’s never wrong about a person. He doesn’t know when he figured that out, but he’s known it for some time now.

“He makes one move,” Rick started, knowing he doesn’t need to finish.

“Just give me a signal.” Daryl nodded, with no intention of letting Eve get involved this time. Even though he knew she looked at him and that she would probably be there when Rick does give a signal.

They crept into the laundry room, lined with washers and dryers. The last major room before the next cell block. Walker moans and gurgles could be heard through the double doors on the side. The place they need to go through.

Daryl took the guard keys from his belt and tossed them at Thomas’s feet.

“I ain’t openin’ that.” he sneered.

“Yes you are.” Rick countered matter of factually. “If you want this cell block, you’re gonna open that door. Just the one. Not both of them. Cause we need to control this.”

The other prisoners moved into their positions in the formation we taught them, they pick things up quick, but Eve stayed right next to Daryl.

Her hearing is almost back to normal but it feels like sounds are becoming more sensitive. Her head is throbbing.

Thomas sighed, swinging his arm down to swipe the keys off the ground.

He glanced at the shorter more volatile prisoner who seems to be his most devoted lackey before going up to the doors and unlocking it.

“You bitches ready?” He grabbed the handle and yanked.

It didn’t give.

He yanked again and gave everyone a false start.

“I got this.” He said, just oozing toxic masculinity.

He grabbed the handles with both hands and yanked again, opening both doors at once.

“I said  _ one  _ door!” Rick yelled as the group scrambled to shuffle around to a new formation that worked like a net and let the herd of walkers crowded in the hallway spill through the doors and get hit by whoever was closest.

“Shit happens!” Thomas yelled back.

T covered Daryl while he shot his crossbow from behind him, and Eve covered his other side, right next to Axel.

Out of the corner of her eye, Eve saw Rick go down but before she could call it out, Daryl was moving behind her.

“Teve mind the gap!”

Eve kicked a walker that was coming at her in the chest and grabbed the one that was about to sneak through that gap, stabbing straight up through the back of it’s skull, feeling the tip of the knife scrap against the top of the inside, but she was a little too aggressive.

She yanked and it didn’t give way, so she was forced to simply let it go and take her knife down with it.

Axel got a walker that was headed her way and again she kicked that same one from before, only this time to avoid losing her balance, she kicked it against another walker headed for T and pinned them both against the wall by the throat with her boot.

T got the back one while she stabbed the front one and then retracted her leg quickly, regaining her balance and ready for the next one — which Axel piked through the eye with his pipe, giving her time to recover.

That was the last of them though, and Eve relaxed her stance retrieving her knife and noticed how Rick is standing in front of Thomas with his jaw clenched.

Eve glanced at T and Axel and they didn’t even notice as she stepped around the laundry units and moved around the back, maneuvering towards Daryl behind Rick.

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

“It was coming at me, bro.” Thomas said.

“Yeah I get it. I get it.” Rick stared him down. “ _ Shit happens _ .”

I subtly pulled my gun, stowing my knife, seeing the way the muscles in Rick’s arm tightened half a second before he swung the machete in his hand.

“ _ No!— _ ” The smallest volatile prisoner screamed as the machete planted in the top of Thomas’s skull and he sank to the ground.

I raised my gun in a heartbeat as he kicked him in the chest and let the body fall before the other prisoner tried to take a swing at him with a baseball bat and Rick kicked him in the side, making him fall before he even got close.

“ _ Easy now. _ ” Daryl aimed the guy but he doesn’t have a clear shot around Rick, neither of us do.

So I aimed at Oscar and Big Tiny instead, making sure they don’t make a move as the guy ran out.

“I got him.” Rick went after him and the rest of us stayed put, aiming our guns at the 3 remaining prisoners. The only 3 I thought weren’t as much of a threat before.

“Man, get down on your knees.” Daryl ordered, aiming at Oscar.

“Whoa whoa, ok, ok.” Big Tiny raised his hands and all 3 of them knelt, setting their weapons down and put their hands up.

“We don’t have no affiliation to what just happened.” Axel tried. “Tell ‘em, Oscar.”

“Stop talkin’ man.” Oscar shook his head, accepting the new situation calmly. In the way you do when you knock something off the counter and don’t even try to catch it cause you already know there’s just no way. So you wait for the shoe to drop and worry about it after you know what you need to clean up the mess.

I kicked the axe and hammer away from Oscar and Big Tiny, hearing T-Dog do the same with Axel but honestly… I don’t think these guys will fight back.

I still don’t trust them but looking at their faces… I actually believe Axel. I don’t think they had any idea what Thomas was doing.

They didn’t try to defend him, they didn’t try to fight back against us, they’ve been cooperative and mostly confused, they haven’t been very aggressive towards us at all. Even now, they don’t look like they have any intention to give us reason to shoot them.

And Oscar’s face in particular is interesting. He looks like that person with an asshole boss who has to just bare with the backlash while they behave like an idiot and apologize to people when they’re gone.

I continued to observe them as we waited for Rick to come back and a few minutes later he did, but just from the way I heard his boots coming down the hall long before I saw him, I can tell he’s  _ seething _ .

I drew in a deep breath. Bracing myself.

Rick stormed in and immediately pointed his gun at Oscar’s head.

“We didn’t have nothin’ to do with that.” Oscar carefully shook his head.

“You didn’t know? You  _ knew. _ ” Rick answered his own question.

“Daryl, let’s end this now.” Rick flipped around aiming at Axel.

“Sir  _ please _ . Please listen to me!” Axel pleaded on the verge of crying, and I don’t blame him. “It was them that was bad. It wasn’t us.”

I glanced at Daryl who’s got his hunting knife against Oscar’s throat, one hand on his head to make sure it’s a clean kill.

“Oh, that’s  _ convenient. _ ” Rick didn’t buy a second of it.

“You saw what he was like. What he almost did to Tiny and the lady.”

I stiffened, the hair on the back of my neck bristling up, until I glanced down at Thomas’s body and his dead eyes staring at the floor.

“Please, we ain’t like that.” Axel shook his head, sniffling. “I like my pharmaceuticals, but I’m no killer. Oscar here’s a B and E and he ain’t very good at it neither. Tiny fixed up boosted cars and took the rap for his uncle. We ain’t the violent kind, _they were!_ _Please, _I swear to god!” He cried. “_I wanna live!_”

I glanced over just as Rick swung around and pointed his gun back at Oscar’s forehead.

Oscar’s quite calm for someone in this situation.

He just stared back at Rick in tense silence until Rick finally asked, “What about you?” in a much calmer tone than before, but he’s still angry.

“I ain’t never pleaded for my life. And I ain’t about to start now. So you do what you gotta do.”

I glanced at Rick, waiting for him to make a decision. I can see the distrust in his eyes but they’re emptier than before. More indifferent. More like when we were first found out these guys didn’t even know what the state of things were because they’ve been locked up here all this time.

He looked at me and all I did was look at Big Tiny. A guy 3 times the size of me, who could probably throw most of us like a rag-doll and  _ he’s  _ the one trembling, eyes on the floor.

I sighed and lowered my gun, looking back at Rick. That’s my answer to his unvoiced request for my thoughts.

There’s no way these guys knew what Thomas was doing.

They would’ve behaved much differently when it happened if they had.

I’m a little surprised at myself for having so much faith in people I just met — inside  _ here  _ of all places — but… the bottom line is, these guys are still citizens.

They behave like people did before the outbreak, with lines they’re not willing to or unable to cross.

They barely have the stomach to kill walkers, and can’t do it without blinking, yet. They’re practically  _ innocent  _ compared to everyone roaming outside these concrete walls …Compared to  _ us. _

Rick himself killed 2 people just now without hesitation. We’re more of a threat than they are. And now they know it. Would you risk crossing us if you were them?

* * *

Rick basically shoved the prisoners into the cell block. Which was unnecessary.

“Oh, man.” Axel looks like he’s gonna be sick, looking down the line of open cells and dead prisoners with their hands zipped tied behind their backs, all with gunshots to the head. “I knew these guys.”

Looks like they were the lucky ones.

“They were good men.” He looked at Daryl, who looked at me.

“So you just gonna leave us in here? Man this is sick.” Oscar looked at Rick incredulously.

“We’re locking down this cell block. From now on this part of the prison is yours. Take it or leave it, that was the deal.” Rick spoke coldly, almost robotic and walked out.

Daryl paused. “You think this is sick? You don’t wanna know what’s outside.”

“Consider yourselves the lucky ones.” Rick disappeared.

“Sorry about your friends, man.” Daryl sympathized with them, which surprised me.

He’s not one to give that usually. And not for just any reason either.

“Word of advice.”

The three of them looked at T-Dog on the other side of the open barred door.

“Take those bodies outside and burn ‘em.” he nodded to the corpses before he too disappeared.

I stood there for a minute longer, aware that Daryl’s standing in the hall waiting for me, I can feel his eyes on the back of my head.

I hesitated but opened my mouth, “You didn’t have to put them down yourselves, and you still have each other. That’s more than a lot of people got.”

It’s not much of a consolation for them now, but someday they’ll understand that it _really_, really is.

I thought about giving Tiny’s arm a sympathy pat but decided against it. Instead I just gave them a sad smile and turned to leave, but Oscar’s voice stopped me.

Despite everything that’s happened. He said, “Thank you.”

I gave a heavy nod and left, meeting Daryl in the hall.

We met up with T and Rick at the end, to start making our way back.

Halfway back, T-Dog looked over his shoulder.

“Did you call us  _ Teve _ earlier _ ? _ ” T-Dog looked at Daryl. I snorted before Daryl could even look open his mouth.

So I didn’t hear wrong.

I am  _ never _ gonna let him live this down.


	157. Chapter 157

**Eve’s POV**

Finally, we got this bus out of the way. It was a good idea to use the trucks to nudge it until it was off the path and we could get the cars through. There’s a slight dent in the front of my truck now though.

I came up beside Rick after parking my truck.

“Okay, let’s get the other car in. We’ll park ‘em in the West entry of the yard.” He turned in different directions, looking around while he organized everything in his head.

I nodded, glancing up to the yard as well as Daryl came up next to me.

“Good.” He tossed a set of keys at Rick. “Our vehicles camped out there look like a giant ‘vacancy’ sign.”

“After that, we need to load up these corpses so we can burn ‘em.” Rick motioned around at the bodies in the grass.

“Gonna be a long day.” T commented and I nodded, fist bumping him as a strange little way of saying ‘let’s get started’. I don’t know exactly when we started doing that but we’ve all been doing it all day. Since we were woken up two hours ago and brought outside against our will to do things adults have to do. Like keep track of our belongings and make sure our cars don’t get jacked.

“Where’s Glenn & Maggie. We could use some help.” Carol asked, walking up after parking the truck.

“Up in the guard tower.” Daryl pointed, letting his hand swing as it came back down.

“Guard tower? They were just up there last night.” Rick glanced at us in mild disbelief.

Daryl cupped his hand over his mouth, half-stepping forward and shouted, “Glenn! Maggie!”

The door at the top of the tower opened and Glenn poked his head out.

“Hey… what’s up guys?” He called down, trying and failing to do up his pants, awkwardly half hiding behind the door.

“You cumming?” Daryl called up.

My eyebrows jumped to my hairline as Rick and I both looked at Daryl from either side of him. He just stood there grinning and kept his eyes on Glenn, trying not to laugh.

“What?” Glenn struggled to put his belt back on.

I snorted so hard it hurt and made me cough and Carol & T snickered behind me, trying to keep their chuckles down and to themselves.

“You cumin’?” Daryl repeated.

Glenn just stared at him, confused and half turned towards the door like he’s looking to Maggie for help but she’s still inside.

I can’t handle this. I had to turn around, pinching my nose and still had trouble containing an all out wheezing fit of laughter.

“Come on, we could use a hand.” Daryl motioned and everyone turned around to get back to what we’re doing and I got about 10 steps before I finally lost it and broke into a fit of giggles that broke Carol and Rick too who’d been doing much better than me at containing it.

It was Glenn’s face! When Daryl said — and how confused he was…

I gasped for air, trying to stop picturing it.

“Hey, Rick.” T-Dog’s serious voice called behind us and the 4 of us stopped and looked back.

My smile died as I followed his gaze up to the upper yard. Where 3 prisoners stand at the fence.

“Come with me.” Rick spoke sternly, like someone took a dump in a bucket and told him it was chocolate ice cream.

The light atmosphere faded like morning fog and I sighed, rubbing my eyes.

_ Here we go. _

Daryl tapped my shoulder and I nodded, falling into step next to him as we followed Rick up.

“We had an agreement.” Rick stopped almost 15 feet from the 3, sounding like he really gave someone who he was giving up on their last chance and they still screwed it up.

“Please, mister. We know that.” Axel didn’t even notice the door behind him open and Maggie & Glenn come out of the tower, but Big Tiny Oscar did, taking uneasy glances at them now that the three of them are surrounded by us.

“We made a deal. But you gotta understand...we can’t live in that place another minute. You follow me? All the bodies— people we knew. Blood, brains everywhere. There’s ghosts.” Axel went on and while I do sympathize with them, I don’t understand why they’re out here.

They’ve seen Rick — the rest of us. We warned them. They know we don’t have any tolerance for troll shit. They’ve gotta know it was stupid coming out here. Why risk it?

I glanced at Daryl and we shared a look that tells me he’s thinking the same thing before he looked back at them, setting his hands on his hips.

“Why don’t you move the bodies out?”

“You should be burnin’ them.” T-Dog piled on.

“We tried. We did.” Axel answered swiftly, but not quick enough to be a lie.

“The fence is down on the far side of the prison.” Oscar piped up.

_ What? _

That captured my full attention. If the fence is down over there, that’s a problem. For  _ all  _ of us.

One mistake and it would be super easy for walkers to flood through there, kill these 3, and push through the tombs again, maybe even all the way to  _ our _ cell block.

We locked down that part of the prison, it’s unlikely they would make it all the way to us even if that did happen, but I’m not comfortable with just ‘ _ unlikely _ ’.

“Every time we drag a body out, those things just line up. Droppin’ the body and just runnin’ back inside.” He continued.

“Look,” Axel moved forward and everyone stiffened, hands going to their weapons instinctively. Me included, even if I don’t think he’s a real threat, it’s just a reflex.

“We had nothin’ to do with Thomas and Andrew. Nothin. You trying to prove a point? You proved it, bro. We’ll do whatever it takes to be part of your group. Just please  _ please _ ... don’t make us live in that place.”

“Our deal is non-negotiable. You either live in your cell block, or you leave.” Rick answered without taking more than a second to think.

Well, this a bit over dramatic. There’s plenty of things you could do to make the place more livable, even comfortable.

There’s also more reasonable things they could’ve asked from us, like  _ help _ with making it more secure, more livable, or even just general guidance because to be fair, we have  _ a lot  _ of experience that we could impart to them with no real threat to ourselves. Heck, it’d even  _ help _ us if they could take care of themselves.

But joining the group… that’s not something that will happen without a trigger, even if we agreed. It doesn’t matter how friendly they are or if we were even stupid enough to let our guards down.

Hell even when we met the Greene’s there was a trigger. Literally.

Now that I think about it actually… there’s always been a trigger. None of us ended up together simply because we decided to. Most of us just happened across one another, saved each other and established some sort of immediate trust and that trust has been cultivated and grown over time, until we’ve ended up here as we are now.

Trust is paramount.

Even if I don’t personally believe these 3 are an immediate threat, I still don’t trust them. And glancing around, nobody else does either.

“I told you this was a waste of time.” Oscar looked at Rick directly. “They ain’t no different than the pricks who shot up our boys.”

My eyes flickered to Maggie and Glenn who shifted uncomfortably. Guess neither of them thought about it before.

“You know how many friends' corpses we had to drag out this week? Just threw ‘em out, like.” Oscar shook his head, not even able to think of a comparison.

He huffed. “These were  _ good  _ guys. Good guys who had our backs against the really bad dudes in the joint, like Thomas and Andrew. Now we’ve all made mistakes to get in here, chief. And I’m not gonna pretend to be a saint, but  _ believe  _ me… we’ve paid our due — enough that we would rather hit that road, than to go back into that shit hole.”

I glanced at Daryl, wanting to see what he thinks about this. He doesn’t look convinced at all.

Rick turned back glancing at the two of us. Daryl shook his head, I pressed my lips into a thin line before tonguing my molars.

* * *

“C’mon, dude.” Axel complained as Daryl locked the gate with the 3 of them inside the ‘checkpoint’ for vehicles going in and out of the prison.

I really gotta gives these gates names. From now on, this is ‘entry gate’. The secondary gate into the upper yard is gate 2. The inner yard gate leading to the other cell block (which is theirs) is gate 3.

I walked with Daryl to the back of the overturned dirty blue bus. Just in time to hear Rick say to T-Dog, “Are you serious? You want them living in a cell next to you? They’ll just be waiting for a chance to grab our weapons.”

_ Well I mean… the cells  _ _ lock _ _ . From the outside. _

_ This is kind of  _ exactly  _ what they’re designed for. _

“You wanna go back to sleeping with one eye open?”

_ Since when did we ever sleep with one eye open? At least 1 of us is  _ always _ awake. That’s what guard duty is for, ma dude. _

“I never stopped.” T-Dog shook his head.

“Bring them into the fold.” He urged. “If we send them off packing, we might as well execute them ourselves.”

My breath caught in my throat a little, and I looked down at my shoes, at the watch on my wrist.

...He sounds like Dale. When we were talking about what to do with Randall.

“I don’t know. Axel seems a little unstable.” Glenn spoke up.

I almost laughed. And exactly how much interaction have you had with him?

I was walking through the tombs with these guys  _ all day  _ yesterday and not to be an asshole but Axel isn’t the sharpest crayon in the box.

He looks like he should be selling cocaine on a street corner but believe me, that’s just because he has an unfortunate taste in mustaches. He’d probably sell it to a cop  _ in a squad car _ , if it pulled up next to him _ . _

I grew up around kids who most certainly ended up like this. You’d be surprised how many kids there were floating through the system who behave  _ exactly _ like these guys. And probably wound up in places like this just because no one ever taught them how to function on their own as adults.

A lot of them didn’t have any initiative to learn how by themselves either, or were actively rebelling against it for one reason or another(or multiple).

It’s pretty common, unfortunately. I mean, I’m no saint either. I was a drifter too, just like those kids.

“After all we’ve been through. We fought so hard for all of this, what if they decide to take it?” Carol voiced her concern.

“It’s just been us for so long. They’re strangers. I don’t — it feels all of a sudden havin’ other people around.” Maggie crossed her arms, squinting against the sun, feeling uncomfortable

“You brought us in.” T countered.

“Yeah, but you turned up with a shot boy in your arms. Didn’t give us a choice.”

On the one hand, there could be a lot of benefits to having more a few more hands and bodies around. Especially ones who know this prison and its history. Where inmates might’ve hidden things or where guards might’ve kept things that could be useful. Or things in the surrounding area, like places that might make good runs or things we might want to stay away from, like a shopping mall or something.

On the other, there could be unforeseen consequences for taking them in. As well as the fact we’ll have to train them and it’ll put more strain on our resources —  _ but _ ...if they’re able to pull their weight even a month from now, the benefits of having some more people around who know a thing or two about typically criminal activities like theft, breaking & entering, cars, etc. The pay off could be huge.

These guys could be apart of the gold mine Rick said this might be, which it’s turned out to be exactly that.

And unlike if these guys had been out here all this time, I think they’re actually  _ more _ trustworthy than if we were considering taking in someone from the outside.

They’re like clay blocks waiting to be molded into whatever role in the group we need them to fill. And they’re more than willing.

“They can’t even kill walkers.” Glenn pointed out.

“They’re convicts, bottom line.” Carol shook her head.

“Those three might actually have less blood on their hands than we do.” T-Dog reasoned.

T-Dog’s absolutely right. If we send them away as is, they will almost certainly die.

They might make it a week, a month, but the 3 of them will never last as long as we have. Especially since we’ve sort of grown with the threat out here, while they’ve been stuck at lvl 1.

Oscar might last longer than Axel, he doesn’t seem like the type to be able to regulate himself very well. Big Tiny… he’s too soft, and big. He’s a bigger, slower target. He’d get surrounded, panic, and go down.

“I get guys like this.” Daryl interjected, pulling everyone’s attention. “Hell, I grew up with ‘em.”

“They’re degenerates but they ain’t psychos. I coulda been in there with them just as easy as I’m out here with you guys.”

“So, you’re with me?” T-Dog asked.

“ _ Hell, no. _ ”

My eyebrows raised. That’s not what I was expecting after that.

“Let ‘em take their chances out on the road. Just like we did.”

_ Yeah, slight flaw there blue eyes. We had like  _ 20  _ people in our group before and still lost more than half getting here. There’s  _ 3 _ of them. We had much better odds. _

“What I’m sayin’ Daryl —”

“When I was a rookie, I arrested this kid.” Rick cut T off and I kinda want to punch him for it. 

R U D E.

“Nineteen years old, wanted for stabbing his girlfriend. The kid blubbered like a baby during the interrogation, during the trial. Suckered the jury.”

“He was acquitted due to insufficient evidence and then, two weeks later, shot another girl. We’ve been through too much.”

That’s a wonderful example of a psycho, your point is…? That  _ everyone _ who ends up in prison, be it for breaking and entering, white collar crimes, being framed, serving a light sentence for something minor, or simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time, is automatically guilty of what???

“Sorry to interrupt  _ Officer _ ,” Everyone looked at me. “but you’ve got a little ‘biased as  _ hell’ _ on the corner of your mouth there.”

Rick gave me a withering look and I raised my eyebrow at him.  _ Tell me I’m wrong ya kumquat _ .

I wanna roll my eyes that I have to explain this. “We don’t have to just  _ let them in _ .”

“All we really gotta do is give them opportunities to prove themselves. Test them until  _ we’re  _ satisfied, kind of like we were doing in the tombs when we taught them how to kill walkers. Yeah they need practice, but there’s plenty of that to go around.”

“We could even tell them that if they want to join us, they’ll have to  _ prove  _ they’re capable. And in the meantime, the deal continues as is. They stay in their cell block, we go get them when we’ve got a test or need more hands or have some tedious work to do, and double it as teaching them how to survive.  _ Then _ we revisit this and decide definitively whether or not to let them join or send them away with a better chance of survival. Everybody’s happy.”

Rick thought for a few seconds before shaking his head. “Our deal with them stands.”

I huffed as everyone but me and T walked away.

_ Well fine then! Shoot down my perfectly reasonable alternative and deal with the consequences yourself, ya goblin-toothed cleft ear dingus. _

_ Don’t come crying to me when this bites us in the ass and I have to clean up yer shit  _ ** _again _ ** _ just because you don’t know when to play nice Mr.my-world’s-black-and-white. _


	158. Chapter 158

“Move the cars to the upper yard.” Rick instructed as he tossed Glenn the gate keys and pizza boy began to jog ahead of us. “Point ‘em facing out. They’ll be out of the way but ready to go if we ever need to bail.”

“We’ll give the prisoners a week’s worth of supplies for the road.” Rick glanced at me and T-Dog.

He’s trying to appease us for overruling us but T-Dog passively shot back, “Might not last a week.”

“It’s their choice.”

_ Is it though? _

“Did they really have one?” Oof nice T.

“Hey.” Rick stopped us both.

“Whose blood would you rather have on your hands, Maggie’s, Glenn’s, or theirs?”

_ Right now? Yours. _

“Neither.” T-Dog answered. He’s much more morally upright than me. Someone’s gotta be.

“Eve, Daryl, Glenn come with me outside to collect firewood. Maggie, Carol, and T, your on the cars.”

_ Nope. Don’t talk to me. I’m  _ ** _salty_ ** _ . _

_ You lost the privilege to tell me what to do when you ignored my contribution to the conversation. Now suffer my silence, ya troll grubbing barnacle brain. _

I walked away, giving Rick the cold shoulder. If he’s not gonna listen to me, I’m sure as dragon turds not gonna listen to him.

I didn’t get 20 feet before I heard Glenn let out a low “Oooohohoho… she is  _ not  _ happy. Daryl, you wanna…?”

“Hell nah. I ain’t riskin’ my skin cause  _ Rick  _ pissed her off. You want ‘er to come with, go apologize and get ‘er yourself.”

I couldn’t help a little smirk as I yanked my truck door open and climbed in.

I started the truck up and drove it up to the top gate, where Maggie finished unlocking it and dragged the fence open.

Carol and T-Dog came up behind me in the other 2 cars, and Daryl drove his bike up next to me leaving just one for Maggie to run down and bring up while I proved my backwards driving skills and positioned the truck while Rick and Glenn ran inside and came back out a few minutes later with a small crate of promised provisions for the prisoners.

Daryl parked his bike right next to my truck and the 3 of them went back down to the entry gate, and headed through it to the gravel path we came in, all the way back to the hole in the fence we made.

I sighed, staring at the steering wheel. The cool leather under my hands.

Maybe I was too quick to get mad before.

I just…

Another sigh slipped out of my mouth as I leaned forward, my forehead hitting the top of the steering wheel.

This whole situation is so similar to what happened with Randall and we lost  _ so much  _ for that mistake.

I gripped the wheel until my hands started to ache.

I don’t want it to happen again.

I grabbed the door handle and kicked my door open.

My boots hit the asphalt and I slammed the door shut. And I watched Lori, Carl, Beth, and  _ Hershel _ come outside.

A smile bigger than a New Year's party at times square split my face.

Those crutches make a fine accessory Hershel.

Now you can walk in style~

I quietly chuckled to myself, looking down at my shoes for half a second before my head was snapping back up in alarm.

“ _ Walkers! _ Look out!” Carl shouted, pulling his gun as he flipped around.

Maggie and I both burst into a run towards them, pulling our guns as the group scattered like marbles on a tile floor.

Gunshots filled the air as every one of us with a firearm started emptying our clips into the walkers as they poured out of gate 2.

“That gate is open.” T-Dog ran up next to me, Carol right behind him and both of them ran forward, headed straight for the gate.

I covered them and myself until they were far enough ahead of me that I reached Lori and I diverted my bullets to a group shambling towards Hershel as he tried to get up a set of stairs to where Beth is.

Sadly I couldn’t get all of them as the walkers in front of me and Lori and Carl piled up.

“Lori! Here!” Maggie shouted from the outer door to the cell block and I pushed Carl, covering him & Lori as we fled towards our part of the prison.

My eyes flew around and I saw T-Dog and Carol make it to that back gate, and found Beth and Hershel safe in another outer door cage area just before I slammed the door-protecting outer gate shut on a walker.

I ran inside, following the other 3 and as soon as I got down the steps, walkers came out of the inner cell block and Maggie whirled on her heel, immediately redirecting Lori and Carl to the other side — to the door/gate that leads deeper into the prison.

I ran for it, slicing a walker in my way and made it in right before Maggie closed it on the walkers.

“Go go—” Maggie half-shouted to get the other two moving down the hall and I swiftly followed after them.

I immediately took point, and I kept my blades high as the sky, ready to sink into whatever I need them to, at less than a moment’s notice. Carl was behind me, Maggie behind him, and Lori at the back.

Suddenly alarms started blaring outside, like a fucking prison break is happening and I moved faster, we have to find somewhere safe and find out what’s going on.

But as soon as we rounded a corner Lori suddenly softly grunted in pain and leaned her forearms against the wall.

“Can you keep up?” Maggie jumped to help her, while Carl and I guarded them.

“Somethin’s not right.” Lori grunted.

“Are you bit?” Carl asked, alarmed.

“No no no.” Lori replied quick, turning around to lean against the wall, holding underneath her stomach. “I think the baby’s coming.”

_ What now!? Are you serious!?! _

“Mom?” Not a second after Carl called for her, I whipped around at sudden growling and flew to Lori’s side, getting her arm over my shoulders and mine around her back, Maggie doing the same on her other side to help the very pregnant — and apparently  _ in labor _ mother — move fast.

Carl raised his gun but Maggie said, “No. There’s no time. Turn back.”

He covered the front while I kept looking over our shoulder to make sure that if the walkers catch up or get too close, I can let Lori go and take care of it.

“In here!” Carl pulled a door along the wall open and we all but carried Lori inside and he tried to shut it behind us but it wouldn’t close all the way.

While Maggie and I let Lori go and she held onto a fence, gasping like she’s just resurfaced from almost drowning.

All 3 of us watched her, not knowing what to do — at least me and Carl definitely don’t.

Lori grunted, breathing hard and just from her face I can tell she’s in a lot of pain as she held onto a chain to keep herself standing. “What are those alarms?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Maggie soothed as Lori let go and we moved deeper into what looks like a boiler room to me.

I moved deeper and deeper, only hearing half of what they’re saying as I checked the inside for walkers, while Carl’s watching the way we came down.

We’re deep enough inside this room thought that I’d be surprised if the walkers up in the hallway could hear us over that prison alarm.

“It’s clear.” I came back just as Maggie said, “No we can’t risk getting caught out there, you’re gonna need to give birth to this baby here.”

What.

_ WHAT!?! _

“Great.” Lori sighed, like she’d simply dropped a spoon on the floor and couldn’t give a fuck.

She started hyperventilating and me and Carl had the same reaction but his was more vocal.

“What’s she doing? Can she breathe!?”

“She’s fine. Come here— let’s get your pants off.” Maggie pulled her backwards a little while Lori leaned on the table and started undoing Lori’s pants for her.

I am freaking out.

I am not prepared for this. I am so not prepared for this.

_ I don’t know what to do!! _

Lori laid down on the floor and I moved around the other side out of pure discomfort.

Maggie looked up at us as she pulled Lori’s pants and underwear off.

“You’re gonna need to help deliver your younger brother or sister. You up for it?”

“Yeah” Carl breathed, and gave a slight nod.

‘ _ No’ _ I wanted to shake my head.

“I’ll do an exam. Let me see if you’re dilated.” Maggie talked to Lori.

I smoothed my hair back over my head, resting one hand on my hip trying to breathe. Trying to calm down.

_ Breathe. Just breathe. Calm down, Eve. You’re making it worse. _

_ It’s not like I’m the one giving birth. _

“Do you know how?” Carl asked Maggie.

“Dad taught me but trust me it’s my first time.” she answered, looking between Lori’s legs.

I stepped back a little, looking back the way we came to make sure we don’t get surprised right now.

“I can’t tell.” Maggie said.

“I gotta push. I gotta push.” Lori sat up, seeming to know.

My eyes kept flickering between her and the door as she stood up and grabbed onto some of the metal down here.

My head is spinning. The only thing I heard was Maggie say “Your body knows what to do. Let it do all the work.”

Lori yelped and Maggie kept repeating encouraging things to her. And for a second I managed to calm down a little, thinking Lori’s in good hands and I just have to keep guard.

But then my blood ran cold and I felt all the blood in my body drain as Maggie said, “Lori stop something’s wrong.” and I looked over just in time to see Maggie’s hand covered in blood and Lori screamed in agony.

“Help me lay her down!” Maggie snapped at me and I sheathed my knives and jumped on it.

I caught Lori just as her legs started to give and basically sacrificed my elbows to the concrete to control her decent and help her get to the floor safely.

“Mom…?” Carl asked as all three of us were crowded around the tall brunette on the ground now. “Mom, look at me, look at me. Keep your eyes open.”

Jesus, Carl is handling this way better than I am.

“We have to get you back to dad.” Maggie said, taking Lori’s hand with both of hers.

“I’m strong enough to carry her.” I hopped on board. It won’t be easy but I can do it if Maggie and Carl cover us. The cell block isn’t that far.

“I’m not gonna make it.” Lori breathed, like someone who’s realized this is their end.

“Lori, with all this blood, I don’t even think you’re fully dilated yet. No amount of pushing is gonna help.” Maggie’s getting frantic which doesn’t help me stay calm at all, but the last thing we need now is me freaking out on top of all of this.

My hand is shaking hardcore and I’ve started to rock a little bit but I’m trying desperately to keep my cool and not have a panic attack.

Lori’s hand found my shirt at my side, like she could tell that I’m on the verge of a hysterical meltdown and  _ she’s _ trying to comfort  _ me _ , when it should be the other way around.

“I know what it means, and I’m not losing my baby.” She rolled her head on the ground, exhausted. Her voice dropping all the way into the back of her throat and becoming much deeper than usual, but it still sounds like her.

“You’ve gotta cut me open.” She looked down at Maggie between her legs.

“No.” Maggie shook her head. “I can’t.”

“You don’t have a choice.” Lori interrupted her, way too calm about this.

“I’ll go for help, I can make i—” Carl stood up but Lori immediately cut him off, “ _ No! _ ”

“Look, Carol’s the one that practiced that, dad only taught me the steps, Lori. If I—”

“ _ Please. _ ” Lori cut Maggie off again.

“I have no anesthetic, no equipment —”

“Eve has her knives.”

I shook my head. “Lori my knives are too big for that. And they’re covered in walkers blood.”

“Carl has a knife.” Lori nodded her head.

No. God no. Please.

_ There has to be something else! _

“Lori you won’t survive.” Maggie came right out and said it.

“My baby has to survive.  _ Please _ . My baby… for all of us.  _ Please, Maggie! Please! _ ” Lori persisted, panting now, sweat clinging to her skin.

She kept repeating please at Maggie until she finally somewhat gave in.

“Lift my shirt.” Lori ordered and Maggie did. “You see my old c-section scar?”

Maggie shook her head, her face terrified. “I can’t.”

“You can.”

Carl slowly came back over from the stairs.

“You have to.” Lori panted.

Lori looked at me and reached to squeeze my now violently shaking hand.

“We haven’t always seen eye to eye, but  _ please _ . Look after Carl for me, and my baby. Promise me you’ll keep watching Rick’s back like you always do.”

Even though I managed to keep my face steady, two tears dropped down my face, narrowly missing my cheeks and sinking into Lori’s lavender flannel as the reality of this started setting in.

My voice wavered as I grit my teeth and nodded. “I will.” I breathed in sharply through my nose and swallowed, making my voice stronger and firmer. “You know I will.”

“Carl?” Lori rasped, almost panting and her son slid closer to her in a heartbeat. “Baby, I don’t want you to be scared, okay? This is what I want. This is right.”

“Now you— you take care of your daddy for me, alright?” Her voice got some firmness back. “And your little brother or sister, you take care of them—”

Carl shook his head, “You don’t have to do this.”

“Ohhh, you’re gonna be  _ fine. _ ” Lori smiled at him, with so much surety and love. “You are gonna  _ beat this world _ . I know you will. You are  _ smart _ and you are  _ strong _ , and you are  _ so brave,  _ and  _ I love you. _ ”

“I love you too.” Carl cried.

“You gotta do what’s right, baby. Promise me, you’ll always do what’s right.”

“It’s so easy to do the wrong thing in this world.” Lori’s eyes drifted down and to the side, regret and pain intertwined through her face and her strained voice, like vines slowly choking.

She took a breath, licking her lips and cut herself off from whatever road she was travelling down.

“So don’t—” she sighed, closing her eyes briefly and rolled her head back to look up at the ceiling. Squeezing Carl’s hand. “So if it feels wrong, don’t do it, all right? If it feels easy don’t do it. Don’t let the world spoil you.” Her voice strained until it almost broke as she looked back at her son.

“You’re so good.” she reached up and wiped his tears. Quieting Carl’s soft sniffles, and the two of them smiled through tears at each other.

“You’re my sweet boy. The best thing I ever did. And I love you.” Carl threw his arms on either side of her head, trying to hug his mom and I swiped own tears as she hugged her child for the last time, smiling through tears the whole embrace while he cried into her long dark hair in piles around her head, sobbing I love you to him.

She kissed the side of his head and took a deep breath in. “Ok. Ok now.”

Carl sat up and Lori grunted regaining a remarkable amount of composure for someone who’s doing what she is. A mother’s love for her children is a powerful thing.

I’m sorry, Lori. For every bad thing I ever thought or felt about you, no matter the reason.

You’re a strong person, and I’m sorry I didn’t give you credit for it sooner.

“Girls when this is over, you’re gonna have to—”

“Shhh” Maggie cried, shaking her head.

“ _ You have to do it. _ It can’t be Rick.” Lori shook her head, silencing Maggie.

Maggie took a breath, trying to compose herself and something about Lori using her breath to calm herself down worked on all of us.

“Alright…alright.” Lori settled herself, taking deep calming breaths through her pursed lips as Carl took out his knife and slowly passed it to Maggie like it carries the fate of the world.

I gently set my hand on Maggie’s shoulder. “You have to cut through seven layers of tissue. Don’t do them all at once, we don’t have enough light to see. Cut the top ones first then pull the uterus out of the body before you try to cut it.”

She nodded, not even questioning why I know that. It’s a combination of an anatomy book I grabbed for Hershel on a run awhile ago and listening to him explain the procedure to Lori when she first told him about the C-section she had to have to deliver Carl.

I’m glad I was in the room when she did.

“Whew...” Lori breathed out one last time. Looking almost completely calm as she stared at the ceiling. “Good night, love.”

“I’m sorry.” Maggie muttered solemnly before Lori screamed in more agony than I’ve ever heard, even from people who were ripped apart in front of me, squeezing my hand so tight that if she’d been holding it wrong she probably would’ve broken my wrist.

“No!” Carl shouted, “You’re killing her!”

And just like that, her eyes closed, tears pooled in the corners of her eyes as her head lulled to the side. Not another sound aside from Maggie’s hands digging into her stomach.

“Give me your hands.” Maggie ordered and I let go of Lori’s hand, letting it fall limply onto my knees and grabbed the top of the skin, holding it out of the way.

“Carl, please.” Maggie asked and I looked up at him, as he reached over, tears pouring down his face.

“Just keep this side clear ok? If I cut too deep I’m gonna cut the baby.”

Numb, he did as told, grabbing the flesh of his mother’s stomach and holding it out of the way just as Maggie told him to.

“I see it, I see the uterus.”

I kept my eyes on him, glancing down only to stretch the slash open wider and help Maggie get the uterus out enough that she can cut the thick layer of muscle open.

Her focus is admirable. She would’ve made a great surgeon. Seems like medical proficiency runs in the family.

“I’m gonna pull ‘em out.”

“I can’t tell if this is the arm or the leg. Ok, I’m gonna pull the baby out.” Fluid splattered onto the ground between Maggie’s knees and both Carl and I focused on her and our jobs here.

I saw a tear fall from Carl’s eye out of the corner of my own as Maggie pulled the baby out and it wasn’t crying.

Maggie tapped and rubbed the baby’s chest and carefully turned it over, and out of instinct I helped her, making sure the baby’s head is supported and she doesn’t slip out of Maggie’s hands. She did the same tap/rub on her back and my heart lurched as a soft cry came from the tiny thing.

Carl immediately took his jacket off and passed it. I took the jacket and positioned it in my hands for the baby as Maggie turned her back over and set her into the fabric net before wiping the blood and placenta and every other slick goo off her hands and arms and tucked the knife away and I passed the baby back since she actually knows how to hold a baby.

“We have to go.” Maggie stood up immediately, holding the infant against her chest.

“We can’t just leave her here.” Carl stopped her, desperately. Standing up. “She’ll turn.”

Maggie tried to grab the knife she’d tucked away.

“No.” Carl shook his head.

“Carl.” Maggie said, her voice deeper than normal and sad but firm. We all know it has to be done.

Carl took his gun out. “She’s my mom.”

I put my hand on his shoulder and he didn’t budge.

If he needs to do this himself, I… I won’t stop him, no matter how much I want to. But if there’s even the slightest chance that he doesn’t need to do it, I don’t want him to.

Maggie gave in and went up the steps and I was torn for a long time but in the end, I followed her; staying at the bottom of the steps so the second it’s done, I’ll be here for him.

Maggie and I both jumped as the shot went off and a second later Carl walked straight past both of us, his face completely blank and devoid of emotion.

I’m so sorry Carl.

I moved past Maggie and put my hand on Carl’s shoulder to stop him from getting to the door. They’ve both done more than enough already.

The dirty metal chilled the tips of my fingers as I carefully put just enough pressure on the heavy door to peer out, and froze seeing several of them in the hallway. There’s no way we’ll get through that. The shot must’ve drawn them here.

I took a long glance at Maggie and the baby and Carl behind me, and my stomach started to sink. Like a leaf slowly capsizing into a still pond after floating on the surface for too long.

I looked back at the hall and set my jaw.

“Carl...” I whispered, just barely loud enough for him to hear me.

“How many bullets do you have left.”

He sniffled softly and checked his clip as quietly as he’s been taught. “3. What about you?”

“Empty.” Maggie answered without having to check.

My eyes squeezed shut. I made a promise, and I intend to keep it.

I took my gun from my waistband and passed it to Maggie.

The alarm went off awhile ago. That means Daryl, Rick and the others must’ve gotten to it. That means the yard is probably clear by now.

“Get outside. Back to the others.” I put my knives back into their sheaths.

“What are you gonna do?” Maggie asked, watching me with scared wary eyes and holding the baby close.

“Keep my promise.” I turned around and put my hands on Carl’s shoulders. I leaned down to his height, looking him in the eyes.

“You’re leaving...aren’t you.” Carl’s breathing picked up even though he’s trying so hard to be strong.

“Listen to me. As long as I breathe, you’re not alone and you never will be. It’s gonna be hard, it’s ok to cry and to feel like you can’t do it. It’s ok to do whatever you need to to keep going, as long as you  _ keep going _ .” I put my hand on his cheek as his eyes started to tear up.

“It’s not fair to ask this of you right now, if there was any other choice I wouldn’t,” I wiped his wet cheeks with my thumbs. “but I need you to keep Maggie and your sister safe. Hold on just a little bit longer, just until I get back. Do you think you can do that?”

He nodded, his chin trembling fiercely.

I pulled him into a hug, wrapping my arms around him tight and letting him bury his eyes in my neck and soak my shirt with silent tears. 

For his sake I forced calm paced breaths through my lungs and gently rubbed his back.

“Shhh.” I turned my lips towards his ear. “No matter what, I will  _ always _ come back.”

I released him and rose up. I squeezed Maggie’s shoulder. Her eyes and nose red and puffy, her face flushed and trying not to cry.

“Hold it together just a little longer, Mags. You can do this. It’s ok to be scared, take a breath. Don’t think about anything else. Focus on what I’m about to say.” I took her shoulders just like I did Carl’s, looking in her eyes to be  _ sure _ that I’ve got her attention and spoke  _ very  _ clearly and calmly.

“Get outside. Get to your dad. Make sure the baby’s alright. Keep your steps light. Don’t rush. Stay quiet. Peek around corners before you move into a hall. Give Carl the baby if there’s only one or two of them and take them with his knife. Go back the way we came. If there’s too many in your path, throw something to distract them and move  _ quick  _ and  _ quiet _ . Get outside, leave the rest to me.”

She nodded and I smiled at both of them, conjuring up as much confidence and reassurance as humanly possible. “I’ll see you soon.”

I turned around and pulled my knives. I took a deep breath through my nose, starting the negative visualizations to prepare myself for what I’m about to do.

My jaw set and I licked my lips. “Wait until it’s clear,  _ don’t run _ .”

I heard their clothes shift as both of them nodded.

That’s my family.

* * *

**Carl’s POV**

Without another breath, Eve pushed the door open just enough to slip out and she was gone. I moved up to the door, peeking out of the slit left open and watched her creep along the wall, ducked down and look around the corner of the next hall before moving down it. The  _ opposite _ direction to the way out.

The grip on my gun tightened as my hand started to shake, the second she was out of sight.

I gasped and jumped as a whistle rang through the echo-y halls, blaring like a school bell right above your head and every walker in the hall growled like some kind of weird hunt just started and like a flood they rushed the hallway, whacking into each other’s shoulders and pouring down the corridor. I only heard two loud smacks of Eve’s feet against the group before all traces of her presence vanished.

I covered my mouth with my hand, blinking hard as two wet drops slid over my fingers and the back of my hand.

The hallway cleared and we waited a few more minutes before I looked up at Maggie and she nodded.

I pushed the door open quietly and checked the hall with my gun up, and we did just like Eve said. Her words playing on loop in my head, every time I needed to know what to do.

_ Don’t run. Peek around corners. _

_ Focus. Keep your steps light. _

_ If there’s too many in your path, throw something to distract them and move quick and quiet _

_ Get outside. Leave the rest to me. _

** _I’ll see you soon._ **


	159. Chapter 159

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally all caught up! From this point forward there will be 1 chp every Monday just like on every other website I post on.

**3rd person POV**

There were no walkers no the way back.

Only long silent halls, and a cell block full of bodies.

Neither Maggie nor Carl were in a state to process the familiar holes in the walkers heads.

Carl followed Maggie like he was on a tether. Just being pulled along by her shuffled steps as she started crying, the weight of everything that had happened flooding through her as her shoulder gently pushed the final rusted chain-link gate to the outside yard. Where not even an hour ago everyone and everything was completely fine. Happy even.

Hershel and Beth watched the others come running back out of the cell block entrance that T and Carol ran into after shutting the gate, as they finished searching it after clearing out their block and only managing to find Randall stuck in a cell surrounded by walkers.

“Hershel!” Rick called out to him.

“You didn’t find them?”

“We thought maybe they came back out here.” Glenn answered/asked.

Both he and Beth shook their heads.

“What about T? Carol?” Hershel asked.

“They didn’t make it.” Daryl answered, Carol’s scarf and T-Dog’s glove from the hallway where they found the walkers loitering, burning a hole in his pants pocket.

“That doesn’t mean the others didn’t. We’re going back.” Rick declared. “Daryl and Glenn, you come with me—”

Rick cut himself off and turned at the distinctive sound of a baby crying.

Maggie pushed the rusty door gate to the outside yard with her shoulder.

The whole atmosphere changed in a heartbeat. All eyes drawing to the baby and the state of the two who barely lifted their feet off the ground as they moved forward slower than a loitering walker.

Rick walked towards them, dropping the axe in his hand on the ground.

Maggie tried to open her mouth to speak but that’s all it did. It just opened and closed, and trembled, and she couldn’t do anything but hold in the sobs that wanted so desperately to just take her to her knees and wail until she can’t breathe.

Rick looked around them, taking staggered steps as if Maggie is somehow blocking his view to his wife. His mind refusing to process the obvious.

“Whe— where is she?”

Maggie didn’t answer and Rick tried to walk past her but she quickly shifted the baby even though her hands are shaking and just barely managed to grab his arm before he could get past her. “No— Rick, no.”

Rick stopped and finally dropped his gun, a sudden sob jerking his whole body.

He covered his eyes as two more jerked him before he dropped his hands and looked at Carl, taking a deep breath, trying to compose himself as best he can for Carl.

But as soon as his eyes landed on his son, his blank downcast expression. Rick’s shoulders dropped.

Every scrap of whatever it was that was keeping him together shattered, and he sobbed. “Ohh no. No” 

Hearing his father cry finally broke Carl out of his daze but he didn’t cry. A sole tear was the only thing that escaped and he watched it miss his cheek almost entirely and splatter on the ground like a lonely raindrop.

Daryl looked down at the ground as Rick staggered and tried to stammer before he collapsed on the concrete.

Nothing but sobbing and baby cries filling the silence that felt like it lasting forever.

As if a trigger had been pulled the baby’s cries began to get louder and a shift of urgency descended over the atmosphere about as slow as a cannonball.

“Where’s Eve?” Randall finally broke the silence, unable to keep the burning question to himself anymore.

Maggie looked at him, worry written plain as day all over his face, and sucked in a breath to stop her own cries.

“She’s alive, she—” she swallowed, clearing her throat of mucus and looked at Daryl almost as if she was talking to him more than Randall. “She distracted the walkers — went deeper into the prison so we could get out of the boiler room.”

Maggie sniffled, breathing in harshly to speak again but Carl beat her to it; Numb and monotone and feeling so many things but at the same time, nothing at all.

“She’ll come back. She promised...she promised she’ll be back.”

“Then she’ll be back.” Daryl stated matter of factually.

Eve don’t make promises she can’t keep. If anybody’s got a shot of making it back from those tunnels, it’s her.

Especially if he goes after her.

To Rick, everything sounded like it was under a hundred feet of water.

This constant… noise...in his ear.

A low but high buzz that drowned out everything around him. Like standing next to a jet engine of a plane as it was taking off.

“ _ Rick _ .”

He barely heard and didn’t even process that Daryl was saying his name, his voice muffled like screaming from under a pillow.

He can’t even hear his own heart beating in his ears.

“Rick, you with me?”

“ _ Rick _ ” Daryl waved his hand in front of Rick’s face but it’s like he’s comatose. He couldn’t even keep himself on his feet as he fell back for the 3rd time.

Daryl shook his head to himself. He can’t bring Rick to go after Eve like this. But it’d be suicide to go by himself and as much as he wants to get to her as fast as possible, it’s no good if he dies along the way. Even just him and Glenn, or him Glenn  _ and  _ Maggie won’t be enough.

They don’t have enough people to go after her like this.

Eve’s pulled miracles before and she’s a quick thinker — especially in a pinch.

Somehow he trusts that she’s ok, she wouldn’t have gone through with her plan if she didn’t.

That doesn't mean the burning pit in his stomach like he ate a whole case of lit cigars or the world-ending need to find her, is any less intense.

It’s for  _ how long  _ that she’ll be ok that worries him.

The muscles in his chest are trying to tear themselves apart like pulled pork, wondering if this will be like searching for Sophia, where if he’d been any later finding her in that hole, he may not have found her at all.

He was denyin’ it before but ever since that happened,  _ every  _ time something happens, he always wonders if it’ll be like then.

If she’s in trouble and there’s a timer on how long she can hold her own and if this time he’ll be too late.

But he can’t focus on that now. If Eve were here, she’d focus on the most pressing thing first, so that’s what he’s gonna do. And right now that thing is  _ the baby _ .

Maggie passed the baby to Carl just as Hershel took charge. “Let me see the baby.”

Daryl snapped back to reality as Carl moved.

“We gotta feed it. We got anything a baby can eat?” He followed Carl over as the kid brought his baby sister to Hershel.

Hershel pulled Carl’s jacket apart to look at the newborn, blood and placenta still covering her skin.

“The good news is, she looks healthy.” He turned his eyes to Daryl. “But she needs formula, and soon, or she won’t survive.”

“Nope. No way. Not her.” Daryl slung his crossbow over his shoulders. “We ain’t losin’ nobody else. I’m goin’ for a run.”

“I’ll back you up.” Maggie volunteered.

“I’ll go too.” Glenn said not even a breath after she finished her sentence.

“Ok, think where we’re goin. Beth,” Daryl tapped the blonde girl’s shoulder and she followed him a few steps to the side.

“Kid just lost his mom, his dad ain’t doin’ so hot, and the only other person he’s close to ain’t here.”

Beth nodded, already understanding without him having to come out and say it. “I’ll look out for him.”

Daryl nodded and looked over her head, stretching his neck a little to see up around Hershel’s head at the 3 prisoners.

“You 3 get the fence. Too many pile up, we got ourselves a problem. Randall, you got the tower.” Daryl dished out jobs and the 4 nodded without hesitation, Randall already running off to take watch at the tower that overlooks the entire front half of the prison.

“Glenn, Maggie, vamonos.” Daryl barely finished his sentence before Rick suddenly moved and grabbed the black axe off the ground.

“Rick!” Maggie called after him as he threw the gate to the cell block door open and stormed inside.

“Get the gate.” Daryl ordered the prisoners, completely ignoring Rick unlike everyone else.

Whatever he’s gotta do right now, he’s gotta do.

“ _ Come on _ we gonna lose the light!” Daryl shouted, quickly losing his patience with everyone just standing around. They gotta do this  _ now _ they don’t got time to go chasin after Rick wherever the Hell he’s goin.

With him out of commission and Eve gone god knows where, he’s the next in charge.

The two runners moved their asses and the whole group kicked into gear on their assigned tasks.

“There’s a Piggly Wiggly on 95.” Glenn said as the 3 of them jogged in haste towards the cars.

“No the baby station’s been cleared. Lori asked me to keep an eye out, I haven’t had much luck.” Maggie talked fast and tucked her sweat-grimy hair behind her ear, out of her eyes.

“Is there any place that hasn’t been completely looted?” Daryl’s frustration rose in his voice but it was directed at the world and life itself right now.

Glenn’s mind raced through his memories before giving him something as Maggie dug into the backseat of the green car. “We saw signs for a shopping center just north of here.”

Maggie straightened back up out of the car. “Yeah but there’s too much debris on the road, a car will never get through there.”

“I can take one a ya.” Daryl put on his vest, already knowing they’ll have to choose between each other, but he’ll let them sort it out themselves. If Eve were here, they’d already be gone by now.

“I’ll go.” Maggie volunteered almost immediately, and Glenn’s face dropped into the closest thing to alarmed that he gets these days, without there being an actual emergency.

“No, Maggie.” Glenn approached his girlfriend, and spoke low and personally not so much that Daryl couldn’t hear but soft and intimate, and meant to comfort her. “After everything that you’ve been through, ok, I’ll go.”

Maggie adopted the same tone. “I want to go. For Lori, I have to.”

Glenn stared into her eyes for a moment before sighing as she softly nodded at him.

“Ok” he breathed and reached past her into the car to grab her bag back out.

He turned back around as she moved behind him and cupped touched the side of her neck, almost cupping her cheek with his hand.

“I love you. Be  _ safe _ .” He stressed and Maggie leaned forward, pressing her lips against his in a long kiss. Like it would be their last one. A habit they’ve unfortunately fallen into whenever one of them has to leave the other. Just in case.

As soon as it ended Maggie gave him another short peck and Glenn reluctantly passed her backpack over and followed her to Daryl’s bike just in front of the car as she swung the blue durable backpack on and climbed on the back of Daryl’s bike already raring to go.

Daryl glanced down to make sure her feet weren’t on the ground as Maggie loosely held onto his side and outright denied acknowledging the thought that flickered across his mind about the only other person aside from Carol he’s ever let on his bike. And they took off.

Glenn watched her back as they passed through the gates that the prisoners had opened and closed. A million things running through his head as he had to watch the only woman he’s ever loved drive away into untold danger.

Daryl will keep her safe. He knows that, he just… you can’t ever predict what happens out there.

He can’t even imagine how Daryl feels.

Eve can handle herself but trouble and bad luck love to visit her at the most inconvenient times.

Half the group is gone.

T-Dog and Carol managed to close the gate but… didn’t make it out of the tombs in the other cell block.

The baby’s alive but they lost Lori and Eve’s just  _ gone _ .

Rick’s in there doing god knows what with an axe. Maggie & Daryl took off.

Half the group is gone and he has to be in charge of everyone who’s left. Hershel, Carl, Beth, the baby, and the 3 prisoners that he can’t keep himself from blaming for all of this.

This morning when he woke up, Glenn had his whole family, even after almost losing Hershel yesterday, and everything was fine.

Now barely a couple hours until the sun is down and only a handful of them are here standing in front of him.

Glenn covered his eyes with his hand. The layers of sweat, dirt and grime reflecting the kind of day it’s been. And a sigh the weight of moon parted his lips.

His throat wants him to cry but he’s so exhausted and just empty, not even shedding tears will lift this growing weight off of his chest.

It feels like he just lived a whole year of his life in one day.

_ ‘Please be ok, Eve. I can’t take it if we lose you too.’ _

* * *

Glenn looked over as he was digging graves in the yard when he heard footsteps.

Axel, Oscar, and Big Tiny came up.

He paused in his digging, trying not to grit his teeth as he got out of the 3 foot hole he’s managed so far.

“How’s the perimeter?”

“We got the walkers spread out. Need help?” Axel asked.

Glenn didn’t answer.

Axel crossed his arms over his chest, awkwardly. “Your friends they—… they were good folks.”

Glenn stopped and looked at him and Axel immediately regretted opening his mouth. “They were  _ family. _ ”

“I think I had one friend like that my whole life.” Oscar interjected. “You got a whole group.”

Glenn looked down, stabbing the tip of the shovel into the dirt.

“Sorry you lost ‘em.” Oscar’s condolences weirdly worked a little but nothing can make Glenn feel better about this.

“Whatever you guys need us to do, just say the words.” Big Tiny offered, and Glenn looked at the three of them, but his eyes drifted behind them to Hershel at the inner fence, looking like he wants him to go over.

Glenn tongued his molars and stabbed the shovel into the ground one more time before roughly pushing it into Axel’s hand. “I need 2 more.”

The 3 of them set to work, using the extra tools on the ground and began digging as Glenn walked away and made the short hike up to the fence.

When he got there, he grabbed the chain link with one hand, resting the other on his hip.

“Rick?”

“Still inside.” Hershel answered.

“Okay, I’ll get him.” Glenn sighed and looked behind him at the prisoners and turned back to Hershel. “A third of our group in one day.”

“Cause of  _ one  _ asshole.” Hershel watched Glenn carefully. The way his thumb rubbed the chain-link and the way he just kind of stared at nothing, tipping him off that he has more to say.

“Part of me kind of wishes we had killed all the prisoners on sight...” Glenn confessed. He feels guilty but no amount of guilt could ever outweigh the anger that just won’t stop storming inside him.

Everything was fine before they went down into those tombs and found those guys.

Hershel took a deep breath through his nose. “Axel, Oscar, and Tiny seem like good guys.”

Glenn shifted and glanced off to the side. “You know when the evacuations started, T-Dog drove his church van to the home of every senior he knew. Just in case they needed a ride. He saved my ass,” Glenn shook his head, not even being able to count. “a thousand times. He isn’t just a good guy. He’s the  _ best _ . And Eve. I never even would’ve made it past the first day if she hadn’t been right there. She wouldn’t even hesitate to save someone she’d never seen before in her life. She’s the toughest person I’ve ever met and the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Hershel took another breath. “She didn’t hesitate to speak up on behalf of Randall before, and now he’s apart of our group. She and T-Dog both advocated to save these men and give them a chance to prove themselves. She didn’t hesitate to give Maggie, Carl, and the baby the best chance at survival. T-Dog and Carol managed to close the gate. If they hadn’t done that...”

Glenn looked down a little. “It could’ve been Maggie.”

“It’s wrong but,” Glenn nodded, squeezing his eyes shut for a long moment, avoiding Hershel’s eyes as he continued. “I’d trade any number of people for one of ours any day.”

Hershel was quiet for a second before he laid his hand over Glenn’s through the fence. “Don’t lose your hope, son. You believe in Eve, I see it in your eyes. Believe that she will come back until proven otherwise. She’s done it before, have faith that she’ll do it again.”

Glenn looked to the side again, at the orange sun. The last rays of daylight hitting his sweat-slick skin. And he turned, wordlessly heading back down to the graves.


	160. Chapter 160

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> 
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**Daryl’s POV**

It was dark by the time we got back to the prison.

Glenn sniped one that was in our way from the top of the guard tower and Axel banged on the fence with tools, leading the walkers out of the way while Oscar opened the gate and shut it quickly behind us.

I didn’t have to stop or slow down for even a second as the inner entrance gate was already open and Big Tiny opened the second one as I drove up the gravel path, using my feet on the ground to keep it steady until the wheels were back on the pavement.

I didn’t bother parking my bike correctly, I stopped it 20 feet from the chain-cage protecting the cell block door, and was almost off quicker than Maggie.

I grabbed my crossbow and followed Maggie inside, almost running inside.

The second she was in the door Maggie called for her sister and went to one of the metal tables everyone’s sitting around to start making the formula, while I went straight to Carl and the crying baby.

“How’s she doin?”

A loud cry answered my question before he could and I reached my hands out for her. Her head fits in my hand like a softball.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Carl apologized to the baby wrapped in one of Lori’s shirts, like he’s done something wrong, as he passed her to me.

I quietly shushed her as I maneuvered her into my arms until her head was safely tucked in the crook of my elbow and I carefully rose back up, gently swaying back and forth and bouncing her just a little.

Her cries quieted but didn’t stop until Beth came over and handed me a bottle.

I took the warm bottle from her and put the nib against the baby’s mouth.

“Come on. come on.” I softly nudged and the gentle encouragement worked. She opened her mouth and started sucking on the bottle and as soon as it was in her mouth she quieted down completely.

A smile pulled up the corners of my lips.

I breathed a chuckle and glanced up. The relieved smile on Maggie’s face was contagious. And we shared a little moment of assurity before I looked back down at the baby. We did it. We made it in time.

This little girl in my arms is gonna be ok.

And another unconscious smile pulled my lips tighter, reaching all the way through my eyes as she looked at me. Little dark brown eyes, the same shade as her mother’s and Eve’s hair.

“She got a name yet?” I asked Carl, trying really hard to keep the smile on my face small. That’s hard when you’re holding the newborn baby you just succeeded in saving while the hungry little sucker gulps down the warm formula like she breathes the stuff. I only know one other person who eats like this.

“Mm, not yet.” Carl shook his head. “But I was thinking, maybe Sophia.”

I froze but watched him carefully, quietly waiting for him to continue.

“Then there’s Carol too. And…” Carl took a sorrowful breath. The kid looks like life is slowly being drained out of him. “Andrea, Amy … Jacqui. Patricia. Or… Lori — I don’t know.” He shook his head turning away, and looked down at his shoes; discouraged and hiding under the brim of his sheriff’s hat.

“Yeah…” I breathed, looking back down at the baby as she started to get a little stronger, a little more aggressive in sucking the formula out. “You like that? Huh? Little ass-kicker?”

“Right?” I looked up as chuckles circled the room and the mood almost instantly lifted. “That’s a good name, right?”

“Little ass-kicker. You like that, huh? You like that, sweetheart?” I tilted her up a little more, moving around a little in just the one spot.

It only occured to me a minute later that I just — that Eve really has been influencin’ me. Usually she’s the one to lighten the mood, intentionally or not. Or maybe I’m just seeing her everywhere cause she’s not here.

the fact Rick ain’t here right now, means he’s still out of it and shit Somewhere in the back of my head Eve’s voice saying focus on ‘er, and .

The baby somehow is keeping me focused, but it didn’t last long. As soon as she was done with the bottle, I handed her off to Maggie, who was more than happy to hold her.

Now that the baby’s fine, everyone else is fine, and Rick’s dealing with himself. The only thing left is Eve.

She’s the only one missing now and I _ know _ she’s alive. Running around the tombs probably having a panic attack somewhere, feeling trapped like she can’t get out. Probably dehydrated, exhausted, maybe even delirious by now.

I chewed on my lip before switching to my thumbnail, pacing a hole in the floor as everyone moved into the cell block and Randall came in from watch duty to trade places with Axel.

I gotta get her outta there.

“Hey.”

I jerked a little as a hand grabbed my shoulder, looking up to find Glenn, Randall, Big Tiny, and Oscar.

“She’s gonna be ok. She’s Eve.” Glenn tried to reassure me.

‘_ That’s exactly why I’m worried. _’ I took my nail out of my mouth, switching back to chewing the loose skin on my lips.

“So what’s the plan? We just gon’ go down after her or what?” Randall asked, getting straight to the point.

Oscar shook his head. “We can’t just go down there blind. Man, you saw how dangerous it was in the daytime, never mind when it’s pitch black.”

“I know where Eve keeps her night vision goggles.” I finally stopped pacing. I saw her put them in the front pocket of ‘er bag the last time she cleaned ‘em.

“That only covers one of us though, the rest of us would be flying blind.” Glenn crossed his arms.

“We’ve got the flashlights.”

We all looked as Hershel came back into the room and stopped next to me. “Eve is smart. She won’t just be runnin’ around wasting her energy.”

“She’d find a place to hide. Hunker down.” Glenn nodded, knowing Eve longer than any of us. He knows more than even I do about how she thinks in a pinch, cause he thinks in almost the exact same way.

Hershel took a breath in. “Rick’s been down there quite a while. It’s possible he’s cleared enough of them outta there that you won’t need to get very far to find her.”

“But what if she’s farther?” Big Tiny chimed in and as much as I hate it, he’s got a point.

I shook my head. “She was leadin’ walkers away from Carl and the baby, she wouldn’t risk stayin’ too close.”

“She also wouldn’t risk goin’ too far though right? You know, in case somethin’ happened.” Randall looked between me and Glenn.

Both of us shook our heads.

“If they were chasing her, she’d try to keep a decent lead on them and kite them as far as she could until she thought it was safe.”

“So we goin’ around in circles then. If she’s as smart as you guys say she is, we ain’t never gonna find ‘er like this.” Oscar shook his head.

“We’d have to clear the whole prison.” Tiny agreed.

“She won’t survive that long.” Hershel shook his head, unfortunately agreeing and looked at me and Glenn. “I know neither of you are gonna like this, but we could wait.”

You’re right. _ I don’t like that. _

Glenn sighed and looked around at all of us in the circle. “Eve’s come back from running off before — in Atlanta, on the farm — twice on the farm actually, but can we really just put our blind faith in that and rely on her track record of coming back?”

“We don’t have to.” An idea suddenly came to me. “It’s possible she’s already makin’ her way back but we can’t just do nothin’ and leave it all up to ‘er.”

“So what do we do?”

“We can start clearing a path on this side.” The knot in my gut started to loosen as a plan came together in my head. “We gotta sweep the tombs anyway, we can’t leave all them walkers down there to wander their way in ‘ere.”

Glenn nodded, picking up on where I’m going. “We know the last place Maggie and Carl saw her was the boiler block and Rick was halfway there when I tried to get him earlier. She wouldn’t have come back towards the cell block, and we know she didn’t go the other way cause we cleared that out looking for Carol and T-Dog. So we know which direction she went.”

“That’s a good place to start.” Hershel nodded.

“I recommend we proceed with caution and don’t go too far while it’s dark. We don’t know how many are down there and there’s a high chance of mistaking her for a walker if she sneaks up on you.”

“She will.” I muttered without thinking and Glenn hummed, Randall nodding, both agreeing.

“You need to make sure you can find your way back easily, and if she’s hurt it’ll complicate things.”

“If she’s hurt we need to find her as fast as possible.” Glenn stressed.

“Which could mean the opposite.” Oscar chimed in and we all looked at him. “If we go too slow we might not find ‘er in time. But if we go too fast we could wind up gettin’ all of ourselves killed before we even get to her.”

“God I wish we had walkie talkies.” Glenn breathed. “It would be so much easier if she could just call and tell us she’s ok, or where she is.”

I nodded, and started chewing on my nail again for a second.

“Alright, we’ve got a solid plan.” Hershel started. “Now you should all take some time to _ rest _. It’s been quite a day.”

I immediately shook my head but he stared me down with his eyebrows raised and came towards me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“I know you’re anxious to find her. I also know that you know better than any of us that she can handle herself. You don’t wanna hear this, but even though she may need us to do the heavy lifting this time, you can’t do that if you’re exhausted.”

I looked down. Still not willing to just leave ‘er out there all night.

Glenn stepped in. “We can take it in shifts. Instead of going down as a big group, we can go 2 or 3 at a time. That way we’re never not making progress.”

“I like that plan.” Randall chimed in.

“Randall, and I will take Eve’s goggles and go down first.” Glenn motioned between the 2 of them and the kid nodded in agreement.

“I’ll do a double shift and take Tiny and Axel down next.” Randall volunteered and both of us nodded at him as thanks.

Glenn pointed back at me. “Then you and Oscar go in the morning when the sun’s up.”

“I’m coming too.” We turned our heads to the cell block and Carl stood in the doorway. Jaw set and looking much older and more serious than a kid should.

“I wanna help look for Eve too.”

Oh she is gonna kill me for this but… I nodded.

He saw her last, if he wants to come with I ain’t gonna say no. We don’t have enough man power right now to be picky. Sides, I trust him. Kid’s one of the best damn shots I’ve ever seen, and he’s got more experience than Oscar, Axel, and Tiny combined.

“And we’ll just keep going like that in rotation until we find her.”

I nodded and we all agreed before breaking off, everyone except me, Hershel, Glenn, and Randall heading back to the cell block.

“Alright.” Glenn grinned at Randall as he turned. “Let’s go catch us a ninja.”

Randall grinned back and the two of them headed to the cell block to get what they need before they head out.

I gotta give them the goggles before they go but Hershel sighed, and squeezed my shoulder, holding me back for a second. “Sun will be up in a few hours. Try to get some rest, Daryl. You’re gonna need your strength.”

I didn’t even try to nod. I ain’t gonna be able to sleep without her nearby.

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

My heart pounded in my ears. A cold sweat coating my skin like a film.

A small drop rolling down the side of my face and made me swipe at it with the back of my knuckles.

My breaths stung every inch of the way, all the way in and out with every fast pant. My sore throat tighter than leather skinny jeans and drier than the red sands of Mars.

My whole jaw is tense, even though my mouth is open.

Every muscle in my body aches but I’m surprised I’m not used to it by now. It doesn’t ache nearly as much as it used to though and my legs hurt least out of everything. I guess this is a good sign that my exercise is paying off.

The thing that has most of my attention is the tremors in my hands.

I’ve been holding my knives so tight that my hands are cramped closed around the hilts. I can’t even feel my fingers anymore, I was just so focused on not dropping them that I channeled the shake of adrenaline and fear roaring through me, trying to stave off blind panic and keep these in my hands.

The shake in my hand doubled as I finally stopped to take a breather.

_ ‘Ah, shit.’ _

I forced my breaths in and out of my mouth, trying to use Daryl’s voice in my head from my previous attacks to help me regulate and try to calm down from the _ brutal _ panic attack I can feel clawing at the edges of my mind.

The attack loomed over me like a dark cloud the second I stopped running and slowly the tremble is just building and building.

_ ‘I can’t — I can’t do this. I have to —’ _

The anvil of awareness dropped claustrophobia on my head like a cartoon. And I used what I know is gonna be the very last of my wits in the span of one short breath to rip a set of keys off a dead guard and duck into the first cell near a light source — from a tiny ass little window — and slammed the gate behind me. The noise it made wasn’t even an afterthought.

My knife clattered to the ground and I grit my teeth trying to lock myself in but the shake in my hand made it a thousand times harder to get my arm through the bars and actually get the key into the lock.

Ironic how _ this _ is the only _ safe _solution I’ve got while I lose my mind, but as soon as it was locked I practically threw the keys onto the dusty bed and stumbled over my own feet as I ran to the corner, slamming my back against the wall and collapsed on the concrete floor.

The blood on my boots slicked down and I tried to pull my legs up _ three _ times before they finally stayed up and I put my head down, curling into the tightest painful little ball I ever have.

I kept trying to breathe, but it isn’t helping as much as just closing my eyes and trying to picture Daryl’s eyes.

The exact shade of blue and the tiniest flecks of a more tan color around the center and how the rim is a darker blue. How sometimes — in the forest sunlight usually — they almost look green. In lower light they look more like a dark teal and almost like they’re one solid color. From a distance and the way he usually squints they almost look brown. And on rare occasions they look almost grey.

I grabbed at my chest, as the muscles around my heart started to spasm, sending violent _ deep _ twinges of pain through my whole torso. Like something’s attacking me from the inside.

I gasped, trying to breathe through my nose, my eyes stinging and small drops slipping out to create wet trails of salt down my face.

At least my mind isn’t the only thing I lost.

I lost my entourage throughout the good few hours I’ve been down here. Like a rat in a maze trying to find an exit.

There are _ so _many walkers down here.

I don’t know how long I’ve been gone. It’s already gone dark. I have to get back. I told Carl I’d be back.

All I can think about is whether or not they got out or if I didn’t lead enough of them away or if there were too many in the cell block and they got chased farther in like I did — in that case this was all for nothing. Without me down here and a crying baby their chances of surviving are — ‘_ Stop. Stop stop, don’t think about it. _’

I know Beth and Hershel are probably safe. I know Daryl, Glenn, and Rick are probably safe. I know Axel, Oscar, and Big Tiny are probably ok.

I hope T-Dog and Carol are too. I don’t know where Randall was during all the confusion but I hope he’s ok too.

_ ‘STOP. Just stop. _’

I grit my teeth, breathing harshly through my nose.

I shouldn’t think about this right now.

Until I know for sure, I’m going to assume the only person who isn’t ok is Lori. Everybody can handle themselves, there’s no reason to assume otherwise.

I glanced up at the room and immediately noticed my knife on the ground next to me.

‘_ When did I drop it? _’

Even in the dark some ambient light from outside allowed me to see the other blade sitting just inside the cell door.

I tried to grab the knife next to me and painful twinges sizzled through my hands like a firework in the center of my palms. My hands. I can barely curl my fingers, it feels like I’ve been dangling by my hands for hours.

‘_ I’m fine. I’m ok. It’s fine. The door’s locked, I have the keys. There’s a window right there, that means there’s gotta be a door nearby. Just breathe. I don’t hear anything, the floor is stone, if there was something out there I’d hear it. _’ I touched my fingers to the concrete beneath me and sighed in relief at how it felt against my burning hand but it came out as more of a shudder.

I took a deep breath through my nose and focused my eyes on the window, on what’s outside it, on the sky. Trying to ignore all the pains in my body and focus on the cold around me; From the wall to my back, from the floor to my hand.

The stomach turning smell of rotting flesh, dead meat, and old blood. But distant enough and familiar enough that defending against the urge to gag isn’t too difficult. Especially since the burn in my nose is so fresh I can hardly smell anything at all.

I don’t know how long it was before I started to feel better. Or when I started thinking about airships, but slowly my breaths began to calm. Evening out more and more. Mental and physical exhaustion taking hold as I brought my knife into my hand and just held it, running my thumb over it like someone holding my hand. A very specific hand that I’ve become more accustomed to being here when I need it than I realized.


	161. Chapter 161

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Hstevens5 for being my first supporter on Ko-Fi!

I woke up to painful cramps twisting my empty stomach and slowly I blearily came to my senses. Crust at the corners of my eyes that I tried to rub and nearly put my own eye out with the handle of the knife in my hand.

My dry mouth made it hard to swallow but the lump in my throat made me try to anyway.

It’s still dark out but the sky just beginning to turn from black to blue is a good indicator that it’s almost dawn but I’m not that tired. Aching and mentally exhausted but energy-wise I think I’m good.

It gets dark around 6-7ish these days, I don’t know how long I was running after it got dark but it certainly wasn’t anywhere near 6 hours. That means I must’ve gotten at least 5-7 hours of sleep. I don’t know how in the Valkyrie's homeland I managed to actually get a near full night’s sleep after yesterday, but maybe it’s precisely  _ because _ of yesterday.

Sometimes pure exhaustion can be a wonderful thing.

I licked my lips as I pulled my stiff legs up, setting my knife down next to me so I can use the inside of my shirt to rub the crust off my eyes (last thing I wanna do now that I’ve seen my hands is rub this disgusting old dry blood  _ into my eyes _ ) before using the wall to stand up.

My bones cracked and legs ached in protest but aren’t complaining nearly as much as they once did.

I might up my training regimen a little, now that I know it’s working the way I intended for exactly what I need it to.

I cracked and stretched my neck, trying to loosen up my muscles a little bit. The absence of adrenaline makes all these pains a little harder to ignore, especially the ones in my hands.

I was smart enough to think about training my legs and arms and all that, regrettably I did  _ not _ think about the more obscure things I should’ve been training; like my hands and wrists.

My stomach cramped sharply again followed by a growl that actually relieved the pain a little for a few seconds.

I have to get out of here. I don’t know how much longer I can handle this.

It feels like being trapped underground.

My head snapped over when all of a sudden an eruption of growling, a stampede of footsteps —  _ not all of them shuffling —  _ and a harrowing scream echoed through the hall like a horror movie.

Not a second later I almost had a heart attack at a loud bang followed by a distant short yell echoing off the concrete walls.

Not a bang like a gun shot but a bang like a door being slammed.

In a heartbeat I hit the cell bars with almost my entire body shoving my hand between the bars with the keys to unlock it — I practically threw them at the wall the second it was open — and pulled my knives, running towards the sounds of someone fighting for their life.

How did the others manage to get down here so fast? It’s only been one night — it was dark — there were so many walkers — how did they even find me!?!

I raised my knives up as the sounds came from just around the next corner and a short scream burst from my lips as I ran smack into a chest and almost flew backwards.

Both of us barely managed to realize in time that we’re not dead and it took a moment to process the brown eyes staring back at me.

_ “ _ ** _T-Dog!?_ ** ”

“ ** _Eve!?_ ** _ ” _

I pushed him out of the way and angled my already raised knife up again and let the walker stumble straight into it all by itself.

It dropped as T-Dog caught his breath behind me, leaning over on his knees. “Boy am I glad to see you.”

Likewise, ma dude.

I smiled in simultaneous disbelief and relief, and offered him a hand to straighten back up.

“How did you wind up down ‘ere?” He asked and that’s… a complicated question.

I waved it off, we don’t have time for that right now — not here. “I’ll tell you later. Carol?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head and started walking back the way I came, being cautious and looking around the corner first but not as cautious as normal because I came from that direction and well, it’s safe to assume probably everything is dead.

“We got separated after we were chased outta the courtyard. By the way, thanks for covering our asses out there.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I walked in tandem with him, watching my step over the corpses and other debris in the long hallway.

“If there had been even one more walker in that courtyard, I don’t think both of us would’ve made it inside. What about Lori, Maggie, Carl? I thought you got inside the cell block with them? What happened?”

My breath caught and I looked away, swallowing before answering. “Cell block was filled with walkers. We got chased down to the boiler room. Lori went into labor... She didn’t make it. I gave Maggie and Carl a chance to escape with the baby.”

T-Dog put his hand on my shoulder. “You did the right thing. Do you know what those alarms were?”

I shook my head. All I know is the two of us probably have the same information.

Those were definitely something like riot or lockdown alarms for the prison but as far as I can tell, it was just sirens nothing else.

I don’t know how the gate got opened, if the walkers broke it. I don’t know how the alarm got turned on but there’s walkers all over down here, and we don’t know where that alarm’s switch is, it’s possible that  _ a walker _ bumped something in his little dead daze and switched it on by accident.

“Come on, from what I can tell this side of the prison is almost exactly the same as the other. There should be a way out somewhere up ahead.”

Thank god. I can’t wait to get out of here.

I nodded and followed his lead, glancing behind us just to make sure we’re not gonna get snuck up on.

A few minutes later he glanced at me and down at my side a little. “You good?”

I looked over, half expecting to see blue eyes but instead I met the concerned dark brown ones of someone I consider family.

“You’re shaking.”

I glanced down at my hand, halfway bringing it up.

I swallowed and nodded, gripping the handles of my blades tighter and glanced behind us again. It’s a long straight hallway, there’s not much opportunity for something to sneak up on us but we’re coming up on a corner so it’s more to know what’s around us, just in case. I should’ve kept those keys with me.

His eyebrows went up as his eyes widened, realization dawning on his face. “Oh, yer claustrophobic.”

I looked at him, taken aback. There’s no way he could’ve figured that out. I didn’t tell anyone that except Daryl — did Daryl tell—

“I remember you had a panic attack at the CDC.”

Wait you saw that? And you  _ remember _ it?

“Don’t worry, just hold on a little longer ok? We’re almost outta here.”

I nodded. Even though it didn’t help much, I appreciate him trying and the fact he did, is what worked.

He was right. 10 more minutes of wandering down dusty halls and I pulled open a door that made me gasp and then melt, taking a deep breath in.

I could cry —I feel the urge to— but thank god. Fresh air at last.

Opening this door and seeing the orange rays of the sun coming up behind the building feels like that moment when you wake up from a long nightmare.

Except this nightmare doesn’t end.

The yard on this side looks almost exactly like the one on the other side minus the entry gate, and it’s just a little smaller, and those 3 were right. Directly ahead of us is a massive gaping hole in the fence like someone drew an armored truck through it.

“Oh Hell no.” T-Dog groaned just behind my shoulder.

The yard is filled with walkers but they’re mostly on the other side. Looks like they’re wandering in from another hole on that side but there’s at least 6 of them between the 2 of us and the fence.

That’s our way out. We can easily get past these ones, swing around the outside of the prison along the fence, all the way back around to the gate and hope someone’s on watch to let us in.

I looked at T-Dog with a ready face and the second I did, he sighed, already knowing that we’re doing this.

I spun my knife and held the handle out to him, seeing as how he doesn’t have a weapon. I don’t know how he lasted without one but that would explain why he was running from a single walker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/


	162. Chapter 162

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/

The 6 walkers weren’t that easy to get through but with a little creative footwork, a few well placed leg kicks and our priorities in the right place, they went down easily enough. And it was just as tiring as it always is and I staggered a little on the uneven ground but T-Dog covered me and got the last one.

I panted, leaning over on my knees trying to catch my breath.

I should be sweating but I’m too dehydrated. My head is pounding though, and I feel like I’m gonna pass out.

I glanced at T-Dog mirroring my position and he looks just as bad, maybe worse.

The dark circles under his eyes make it look like his eyeballs are retreating into his head and it doesn’t take a genius to figure he probably didn’t sleep more than a few winks last night.

At least 1 night without sleep won’t kill you outright. If he’d been on his own any longer he may have not made it to be honest. Sleep deprivation is a dangerous thing, especially when you literally have to run for your life.

I grabbed T’s elbow, helping him straighten up and get moving.

I know he’s tired but we have to go, before those other walkers notice us.

T-Dog didn’t complain as I dragged him out and followed me along the outside of the fence, both of us keeping low and edging along trying not to move in any super noticeable way.

We could just leg it but that’s reckless right now and will attract a lot of attention as well as burn energy we don’t have to waste.

We’re both exhausted, dehydrated, and starving. And judging by how many aches and pains I’ve got, I can only guess as to how many he’s got.

It didn’t take us more than 10 minutes to wind our way around, avoiding and killing a few walkers along the way. There’s way more walkers on this side of the prison than there is on our side but there’s no way they all just wandered in yesterday. Most of them had to have been here already, and I’m guessing they’re the reason the tombs seem to have an endless flood of them just roaming around inside. No wonder the prisoners couldn’t get out. We’re experienced as Hell and even we barely got out of there.

Halfway back to the opening in the outer fence that we’re gonna have to go through since the gate is locked, I looked into the yard trying to spot anyone in the guard tower but I barely even looked because a figure moving in the field caught my attention.

My heart dropped as I grabbed the chainlink, desperately trying to look closer from this distance.

It can’t be. Please no—

My heart leapt out of my chest and I have never felt such a flood of relief in my life as soon as the figure with the hunting contraption on and the angel winged vest very humanly and in a very much  _ alive _ way, took a knee in front of a small construction of a cross, taking a moment before standing back up.

I staggered, my head swirling like I stood up too fast and almost collapsed. The fence dug into my fingers as I gripped it more firmly, trying to keep myself from falling over. My forehead bounced off the chain link as I let it fall against the metal, closing my eyes for a brief second. Just long enough to release the dizzying relief in the form of a sigh.

That was the single most heart-stopping moment of my life — And that’s saying something.

It utterly terrifies me how fast I went from pure terror and dread to completely relaxing — to the point of almost going limp, at just knowing that one  _ flicker _ of a thought and how quick it was proven wrong.

I forgot where I was. I couldn’t breathe and it scares the shit out of me how many  _ horrifying  _ things I felt — that I don’t even know the words to describe them, in the span of just a few seconds.

A few seconds, that’s all it was. But it felt like the entire universe froze, ceasing to exist for an eternity, and then with a single snap another big bang happened and everything went right back to where it was.

“Eve?” T-Dog asked carefully, worried and on edge but not worried about me so much as about something else.

My eyes widened, realization hitting me like a bucket of ice water that I’m— we’re still on  _ this  _ side of the fence with my back facing the walkers.

I flung around and in a heartbeat assessed exactly where every single walker in the vicinity is, starting with their proximity to us and how clumped together they are.

There aren’t many close enough to be a threat just yet but there’s more farther and farther back and even more along the fence lines. We shouldn’t stay out here any longer than we have to.

The fence opening isn’t that far from us but with this many walkers around I don’t think we can get it open fast enough.

With the fastest thought I’ve ever had in my life, I curled my lips and T-Dog jumped like he’d been hit with a defibrillator as a high _sharp_ _as steel_ tone resonated from my lips. Loud as a train whistle and just as startling.

Daryl’s head instantly snapped over and the second I started moving along the fence again with T-Dog right behind me, blue eyes found me.

The second his eyes landed on me, Daryl froze and all the walkers looked in our direction, but that was a risk I was willing to take.

“What the Hell are ya doing?!” T-Dog panicked and I grabbed his arm and dragged him into a run, weaving around walkers like a game of octopus.

I couldn’t have made it any quieter if it was going to reach his ears, and now Daryl can open the gate for us. This risk is much less than trying to get the fence open fast enough.

I glanced back at the yard and it wasn’t difficult to find Daryl running across the field in a dead sprint for the gate, the keys already in his hand clattering loud enough to draw the attention of the walkers outside the fence closer to him.

I took another fast glance between dodging and covering T’s back as we ran, to see the door of the upper guard tower fly open and Randall’s distinct figure come running out, heading for the lower gate as well.

They reached the gate much faster than T & I and almost the second the both of them reached it, the walkers up against the fence started dropping and Daryl got the gate open so fast he almost took his finger off.

I slowed down for a half a second to pike the back of a tall skull and jumped over the freshly fallen corpse of the one T took care of in front of us and a few gunshots popped off, dropping corpses in our path before the gate ripped open and all the walkers near it were on the ground.

T-Dog was about 4 yards in front of me and I reached my hand down as a skull with an arrow sticking straight up out of it came up and yanked the arrow out as I passed, right as T-Dog ran inside the gate like a home run.

Daryl backed up the closer I got until he was inside the gate and dropped his crossbow into the gravel right before I passed the ‘finish line’ and Randall and T slammed the gate shut behind me so fast I swear I felt it clip the end of my hair.

My shoes slid on the gravel as I barely managed to slow down just enough that I wouldn’t knock him over when I plowed straight into Daryl’s chest but that’s exactly what he wanted.

His arms closed around my back like a bear trap the moment I ran into him and absorbed all of my momentum without even losing his footing.

My muscles turned to Jell-o the second I set foot back in safe territory and my knife dropped from my hand without a single thought as well as the arrow, and my arms took on a mind of their own, wrapping around his shoulders so tight it felt like managing to catch a hold of my lifeline before it zipped away from me.

That’s when the shaking I had been suppressing for so long finally rushed me full force.

Daryl’s hands around my back so far they’re touching my opposite sides triggered something in the back of my head that I’d been unknowingly clinging to. Like I had been subconsciously promising myself that I only had to hold on until this moment, and then I could just let go.

Daryl’s head pressed against the side of my own, the scruff of his beard scratching my collarbone as my shoulders were raised up to my ears, my leathered arms wrapped around his neck like a scarf and I buried my face in his shoulder like the rising sunlight will burn my eyes to ashes.

I squeezed my eyes shut tight, trying to get my arms around him even tighter. I don’t even care if he’s suffocating in my shoulder, and evidently he didn’t either as his arms tightened around my back, almost tight enough to feel like my rib cage is being crushed.

“ _ Thank god. _ ”

I barely made out what he muttered into my shoulder muffled by my jacket but even if I didn’t hear him, just the way his arms snaked around me even further, trying to pull me as close as humanly possible even though we already are, would’ve been enough.

My breaths shook like the last fall leaf desperately clinging to the branches as the tremble migrated out of my arms and through my whole body, slowly spreading itself too thin and after what felt like forever and no time at all, finally subsided.

* * *

**3rd Person POV**

The second Eve was in his arms everything was ok again.

All the tension he was carrying both the realized and the hidden, just melted away.

Eve didn’t care that she could barely breathe and neither did he. Nothing else outside the two of them existed.

Daryl knew she had to be ok but there’s always that fear, and when he came back last night and she still wasn’t here… He barely got a wink of sleep last night and it was only because of Glenn’s idea to rotate going through the tombs to find her that he even managed to let stress and pure exhaustion close his eyes for the precious hour or two he was able to get.

He was up almost all night waiting for exactly this moment.

This moment that’s happened way too many times now. Where she’s out of his sight, gone too long, and gives him just enough time to have a heart attack before she pulls a miracle move and shows up where & when he leasts expects her.

She smells like dust and congealed blood and sweat but he couldn’t give a rat’s ass. If she was covered in tar, cow patties and feathers he’d still hug her the exact same way he is and be glad that the tar would stick them together. Maybe then this will stop.

He doesn’t know how much more of this his heart can take.

They finally pulled back from each other just enough for Daryl to put his hand on her cheek, his fingers curling around the side of her neck and barely brushing the edge of her hairline behind her ear. For some reason he just felt like he needed to, like the action will somehow reassure him that she’s fine and that this is real, and it worked. The longer he felt her pulse under the palm of his hand, the more convinced he was.

Eve leaned her forehead against his, brushing the side of his nose with hers; both as her own reassurance and to convince her mind it’s over.

“Don’t do that again.” Daryl tried so hard to growl it at her but he couldn’t keep the relief out of his voice if he’d tried a hundred times harder.

“I mean it this time, I ain’t gonna come save ya if ya get in trouble.”

Eve smiled, eyes closed and raised her own hand to Daryl’s cheek. “Don’t worry, I don’t think there are any sinkholes around here.”

Daryl bonked her head with his as Eve laughed at her own stupid joke — at her own expense! But Daryl found himself smiling nonetheless.

Eve certainly knows how to let the pressure off a serious moment.

T-Dog and Randall finally decided to just leave the two of them instead of standing here awkwardly, waiting for them to finish their little moment and remember they’re still here. It’s obvious that they have no plans to any time soon. Which is still weird because it goes completely against both of their personalities, but they did just spend a whole night not sure where the other was and if they were safe or if they’d ever see each other again; so it’s understandable they’ll be a little uncharacteristically affectionate even if there are witnesses. No matter how unlikely it actually is that they’d never see each other again cause I mean come on. It’s  _ Eve  _ and  _ Daryl. _ They’re gonna outlast  _ everybody _ .

T-Dog on the other hand wants only 2 things right now. Food and to not wake up until sunrise  _ tomorrow _ .

Some food and rest is in order.

Daryl didn’t forget about their presence though, and as soon as they were leaving, he took half a second to glance over his shoulder and make sure they really are leaving and don’t look like they’re gonna turn around, before he turned back.

Eve looked a little confused about what he was looking at and her arms loosened slightly so now her hands are resting on the outside of his biceps but as soon as he looked back to her, her bright eyes gleaming like the finest Egyptian gold in the intense orange rays of the early morning sun met his.

His deep cerulean eyes traced the delicate slope of her nose and her smooth eyelids as she blinked, long eyelashes like strokes of black ink against her pale cheeks. A complexion surprisingly resistant to the rays of the Georgia sun. A few small beginnings of pimples here and there from grime & blood splatters resting on her skin for too long.

The sun reflected off her cheek making it look like she was glowing and his eyebrows furrowed just staring in internal confusion at how he could ever actually think crap you’d read in a damn romance novel, like how he wants to just freeze this moment and stay awhile. Maybe not forever — he’s not that far gone. But just… for a while. Just long enough to burn this image onto the inside of his eyelids like an afterimage. Or like how this is the one time he’s ever wished he had a camera so he could take a photo of one of the few things he’d actually be angry about forgetting.

But he’s not too upset because this isn’t something he’ll forget easily, especially after he does this.

Eve unintentionally held her breath as Daryl gently pulled on the back of her neck. She swallowed, stopping herself from biting or licking her lips as her eyes unconsciously drifted down.

He’s never tried more than just a quick kiss before but he already knows that’s not gonna be enough this time. And he’s choosing to ignore how that makes him simultaneously uneasy and feel like his feet aren’t touching the ground.

Daryl’s nose brushed hers and the corner of his lip twitched when he noticed how warm it was, and how much redder her face has gotten (not that his is much better, but he will  _ never _ admit that), how she’s trying so hard not to fidget with her lips; a habit neither of them were aware of before they started actively kissing. It happens every time they lean in for a kiss and it never fails to make his stomach feel like that moment right at the top of a roller coaster.

The blood pumping in Eve’s ears drowned out everything — even the massively annoying growling and rattling of metal fencing not 20 feet behind her, and her toes curled and uncurled in her boots, trying desperately to keep the fidgeting under control until that breath she was holding was stolen by warm pressure against her lips, and she returned the pressure every step of the way as it just sank deeper and deeper.

Her lips aren’t as velvety as usual, dry from dehydration but somehow they’re still as soft as ever to him, and it’s everything Daryl needed and more.

Time seemed to be a nonexistent concept as they stood there. Weapons and walkers forgotten, the uncomfortable cling of blood and sweat on skin gone and replaced with nothing but the warm sensation of wherever they’re making contact.

Daryl’s hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer as Eve’s hands slid up, cupping his jaw and gently curling her short nails through the stubble on his face. Never in his life did he ever think that would feel so good.

Eve never thought there was actually a place she doesn’t mind being trapped in — even feels  _ safe _ , but it’s right here. In this space. Perfectly content with however much freedom to move as Daryl intends to give her, even if it’s none at all — in fact, she kinda likes it.

It felt like hours before Daryl needed oxygen and their lips finally separated, eyes still closed and leaving the both of them panting for several long seconds.

Eve finally licked her lips, this time tasting the salt from Daryl’s as he rested his forehead against hers, completely relaxed as her fingers curled through the hair at the base of his neck and something he never thought he’d say to someone in all his life, just slipped out. As easy as breathing.

_ “I love you.” _


	163. Chapter 163

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A touching reunion and a first meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, I have family in town, I'm really sick, and I wrote this whole thing on my Chromebook today instead of my laptop, so the writing might be a little rough this chp.

Daryl froze.

All that relief he was feeling just moments before immediately recoiled and felt like he’d been punched in the gut. An overwhelming nausea struck him like a lightning bolt but he didn’t move a muscle. He couldn’t. He was utterly frozen, like he was face to face with a tiger and if he so much as breathed, it would realize it’s hungry and he looks like lunch.

Eve couldn’t control the flood of emotion that whirled through her like a blender, mixing and contradicting with just 3 little words, but the one that dominated all the rest was absolute terror.

Not real-life horror movie terror, it was complete petrifaction I-don’t-know-what-to-do terror.

Her entire face radiated enough heat you could grill a steak to perfection on it, and the smile that slowly crawled across her face put the sun to shame.

She was overwhelmed by 2 dominating polar opposites of emotion and it crashed her whole brain like the blue screen of death. 

Halfway through a mad scramble to get her thoughts together, two of them collided and what came out of her mouth was, “I love me too.”

The second it left her mouth, her smile dropped like an egg from the top of a skyscraper and she’s never wanted to die on the spot in her entire life more than she does right this second.

“No ah— I meant— _ you _ — I-I love _ you _… Too.”

_ ‘Someone kill me _.’ Eve chased away a whimper of pure embarrassed frustration that wanted to escape her throat so badly, and grit her teeth to keep herself from making it worse.

She’s never felt more mortified than right now. She had to choose _ now _ to not be able to speak English. This had to be the thing she had a knee-jerk reaction to instead of just — why couldn’t she just have been stunned for a second and then said it back properly, like you’re supposed to?

Her thoughts were cut off as soon as she glanced at him and her eyes fixed on the tips of his red ears, and then finally _ looked _at his face.

Daryl pressed his lips together so tightly they were turning white and he _ still _ failed to hide the smile that was desperately trying to pull his mouth apart. Even if he had managed to, one look at his eyes would’ve given everything away in a heartbeat.

He hadn’t planned to say it himself, Hell it hadn’t even _ crossed his mind _ until the exact moment it left his mouth.

When she said it back though, he didn’t think this kind of ‘thrill’ actually existed. He thought it was made up by writers and shit to make romance stories more dramatic.

Daryl’s never loved anyone like this in his life. Not his mom, not his brother, certainly not his dad. Nobody. He didn’t have even a single guess as to what this felt like and a new wave of nausea hit him, because it scared the shit out of him.

He is _ actually _ terrified at how just looking at this one human being makes him feel, against his will. How he feels when she’s not in his sight and doesn’t know where she is, is the most soul-crushing anxiety he’s ever felt.

One person has never meant so much to him. He’s hasn’t _ wanted _ another human being in his personal space since he was a kid and he’s _ never _wanted to keep someone so close that they never move out of it.

Daryl barely noticed that he’d pulled her in tighter without even thinking and leaned his head against her shoulder, burying his eyes in her neck but Eve was more than grateful for it. As much as she’d have loved to, she couldn’t handle another minute of someone having full view of her face right now.

The fence behind Eve rattled harshly and a particularly loud growl made both of them jump, Daryl arms tightening as he unintentionally pulled Eve farther away from the sturdy fence.

Eve looked at him after a moment and they both snorted simultaneously. Silently agreeing that the moment’s over and that maybe this isn’t the best place to do this in the first place but whatever. No take backsies.

Daryl finally let her go as she gently pulled back to lean down and swipe his crossbow off the ground from beside her.

Daryl saw what she was doing and did the same with her knife, both of them rising back up to trade their weapons before Daryl wrapped his arm around behind her and gently nudged her forward as he started walking, signaling his intention of following after the other two, finally.

Eve was about to head up anyway, she’s starving. And at the moment she remembered it, her stomach decided it was time for choir practice.

Daryl snickered as Eve shushed her tummy, stroking it like a dog, and Eve ignored his amusement in favor of putting her knife back in it’s rightful sheath.

Daryl kept his arm around Eve’s back, hand resting around her side — not because he just wants to keep it there or anything — it’s more out of concern for how tired she is and he’s worried she’ll fall, as they finally caught up with the other two who are for some reason still outside even though they could’ve gotten all the way inside during the time it took the two of them to get up here.

However when they neared the door, Eve stopped.

Daryl’s thumb absently made circles on her back as he looked at her, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

Eve looked at the building with wary uncomfortable eyes. Her feet not wanting to carry her forward another step. She just got out of there, she’s not too keen on going back in.

She’s gonna have to eventually she knows that she just … needs a minute to work up to it.

Daryl knew exactly what she was thinking just by looking at her profile and the face she’s making, so he let his hand fall from her side and slid it into her palm.

Eve automatically returned his grip and took a deep breath. She’s fine. She’s ok. It’s spacious inside, there are windows — barred but _ windows _ — and the others are all inside.

She let the weight of her head go and let the back of her skull pull her chin towards the sky, taking another deep breath as she stared up at the little puffs of a few clouds floating listlessly through the pale blue.

She took another second to just breathe, letting her eyes close for a few steadying breaths before lifting her head and nodded as Daryl gave her hand a questioning but reassuring squeeze.

She feels bad that he’s always helping her with stuff like this. Ever since the first time it feels like it’s been happening more and more frequently. Of course she knows why, it was bound to happen what with the stress of just daily life skyrocketing but it feels like since they lost the farm it’s been happening way more often than she can even deal with alone anymore.

Unconsciously her grip tightened on his hand.

She’d be lying if she said the fear and paranoia of becoming dependent on him to get through attacks and her own fears hasn’t started to creep it’s way into the back of her mind.

She can’t afford to be dependent on another person to cope but the more she thinks about it, the less sure she is that she _ was ever _ doing very well coping with them on her own.

Given the circumstances, the stressors are certainly more frequent than they ever used to be but the fear of actually having an attack has lessened since Daryl — since they met and fell into their partnership, long before he witnessed her first attack. Even when he had no idea what was going on, he still noticed something wasn’t right and tried to help her.

Eve shook her head as her stomach rumbled again followed a painful hunger cramp. Casting the thoughts aside, not wanting to think about this right now, she took a step and allowed Daryl to lead her to the door finally. And he took the lead out of habit but also because he somehow just knew she’s unconsciously going to resist. She’d stand there all day just staring at the building if he doesn’t give her a little nudge. 

The second they went in, Maggie looked over from the other side of the room where they’ve got a small table set up with food preparation stuff and she gasped the second she saw the 4 of them entering, “_ T-Dog! Eve!” _

A thundering of footsteps followed the sound of something hitting metal and two pairs of feet slapped against the concrete as they came running out of the cell block like their lives depended on it.

Daryl guided Eve to sit at one of the tables as Glenn came around the corner out of the cell block and slid to a stop, spotting his girlfriend rushing to one of the tables and throwing her arms around a familiar figure.

A laugh of pleasant disbelief escaped him, enormous relief flooding and relaxing his entire body. Carl on the other hand, who came out only seconds after him, didn’t lay eyes on her for more than a second before he ran straight for her, his eyes already welling up with hot stinging tears.

Eve opened her arms staying right where she was as Maggie let go and moved back just in time, having heard the rapid steps coming up behind her.

Carl’s arms crashed around her neck, the same way hers had to Daryl and wrapped like a boa constrictor and she hugged him back so tightly Carl’s back popped, his Sheriff’s hat falling to the table after bonking against her shoulder.

Daryl picked it up as she gently rubbed Carl’s back while Randall absently told them he was gonna go tell the others who went down into the tombs that they could stop searching and Maggie jumped on grabbing the both of their lost & newly found comrades something to eat, while everyone took turns hugging and reuniting.

How she and T-Dog ended up outside, none of them know but there’s plenty of time for that now.

Carl swiped the silent fluorescent trails from his cheeks before pulling back and Eve gave him a warm reassuring smile, and just looking at her made all the panic about her being gone seem silly.

She looks no different than she did yesterday. She was only gone overnight, and although she’s tired & hungry and could probably use a shower, she doesn’t look any worse for wear.

Carl finally stepped back, the uncomfortable pit in his stomach finally dissolving back into a feeling of quiet strength he didn’t even know he had.

He told himself all night that when she was back everything would be ok. Now that she is, he can finally breathe again.

Glenn finally came over with nothing but a bright relieved smile as Carl finally pulled back and Eve gave him a cheeky smile, ruffling his hair, just like she always does. Who knew something that used to annoy him would become his greatest source of comfort.

“I thought we lost you in the tombs.” Glenn’s so relieved he’s almost crying as he hugged her, her arms wrapping tight around him with an incredibly reassuring amount of strength. Nothing at all like when they nearly left her the morning after the farm was overrun, when she collapsed on the road looking near dead.

Her arms now squeezed him back with enough force that it wiped away every fear he had about her lasting the night on her own.

Sometimes he forgets just how capable his best friend is.

He pulled back to look at her up and down, really making sure that she’s alright and his eyebrows actually raised in surprise.

She doesn’t even look any worse for wear, just tired, and rightfully so.

Eve’s become like his sister. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if she’d been hurt or if god forbid they never found her.

Their return was celebrated with a much needed change of clothes and a few minutes to clean up before they returned to the dining area to have some much deserved breakfast and about 2 whole bottles of water each, and were filled in on what exactly happened.

Andrew, the prisoner that ran after Rick killed Thomas, came back. He took an axe or cutters to the chain they had on that back gate keeping the walkers out and then lured the dead in with pieces of a deer. He turned on the prison generators that were hooked up to the alarm and ambushed Rick, Daryl and Oscar when they got down there to turn it off.

At least one good thing came out of it, Oscar proved himself to Rick by killing Andrew with Rick’s gun and then giving it back to Rick even though he could have shot him. 

They also learned that Carol never made it back. T-Dog explained that they got separated almost immediately after making it into the prison by a couple of walkers that came out of nowhere, and he never saw her again. But when Rick and the others went searching — while everyone that had fled into the tunnels were still missing — they found evidence that Carol was gone.

Eve’s heart broke at the news and noticed how Daryl had his eyes on his shoes, next to her. Wordlessly and without drawing attention to what she’s doing, she scooted closer and slipped her hand back into his in his lap, squeezing and gently rubbed her thumb over his knuckles. Giving as much comfort as she herself was taking.

Carol is to Daryl as Glenn is to her. She and Daryl share a profound friendship that seems almost familial and it started after Sophia went missing but during the winter, usually when Eve & Glenn were hanging out or doing the occasional solo run (the awesome duo, forever skirting death just like the good ole days), Eve usually came back to Daryl hanging out with Carol.

The two of them would often banter back and forth and occasionally Eve would chime in and annihilate them both with one comment.

She must admit, he’s hiding it very well but Daryl can’t keep secrets from Eve. She knows him too well. He’s burying the pain, closing off so he doesn’t have to feel it and taking it with a grain of salt.

Everyone grieves in their own way but she’s not going to let him close himself off entirely. He’s the kind of person to deal with his grief silently and by himself. That doesn’t mean he should be alone while he does it. Thankfully offering a silent support is what she does best.

Daryl returned the grip on her hand, their interlocked fingers hidden beneath the table as Eve finished her second water bottle after vanishing her plate of food like a magician, as usual.

And then it happened.

Beth came in the room with the baby and Eve smiled when she saw the tiny little human and then froze solid when Beth walked up to her.

“Do you wanna hold her?”

Daryl watched her for a few seconds, before he and Glenn both worked out what’s going on in her head at the same time and shared an amused grin from either side of her.

“Here, pass her.” Daryl didn’t give Eve a choice and Beth carefully passed him the newborn, and Glenn subtly put his hands on Eve’s shoulders, gently squeezing her out of her shocked state and launched her straight into a hilarious expression of fear as Daryl carefully put the baby in her arms.

“Hold her head like this, make sure ain’t goin’ nowhere if she squirms.” Daryl positioned her hands and is doing a lot better than Glenn at containing his laughter. Eve looks like he’s teaching her how to use a rocket launcher, not hold an infant.

Freaking out is an understatement but she devoted an incredibly unnecessary amount of focus on holding the child, and it’s exactly the sort of heart-warming hilarity they all needed.

_ Daryl _ teaching _ Eve _ how to hold a _ baby. _

Eve looks like she’s afraid of her but the baby looks perfectly content with her surprisingly.

After a few minutes of careful concentration and uninterrupted focus, Eve suddenly looked at Daryl with world-ending realization. “It’s a baby.”

Eve can’t remember a time she’s _ ever _ held a baby, in her entire life. What if she drops it— her? What if she wiggles and Eve can’t hold onto her and she drops her and—

Daryl saw the look on her face and really struggled not to laugh now. She helped deliver the kid, how is she only _ just _ reacting, now?

“Yeah, _ she _ is.” He nodded, trying to be a little sympathetic and not taking _ complete _ enjoyment out of this but she’s not making it easy. “Relax. You got ‘er. She ain’t gon bite ya.”

“Not until she starts teething.” Hershel joked and everyone burst into laughter at the sudden alarm on Eve’s face. It being painfully obvious with just that look that she has no idea when a baby starts teething.

The baby seems to enjoy grabbing her finger and holding onto her shirt even though she’s a newborn. Just flexing her little hands and curling around things, doing what babies do; like scaring the shit out of grown women who can stab a blade clean through an eye socket without so much as blinking.

After a few minutes Eve actually settled down, rocking a little from side to side, more to calm herself down, and it was like magic. That baby was out like a light, and Glenn made sure to comment, “See? She likes you.”

Eve stared down at the little bundle in her arms. It’s surreal. Holding a child. She can’t say that babies and kids in general have crossed her mind all that much in her life, and it was never like this. It was always _ other _ kids because the last time she interacted with a kid before the apocalypse for more than a few seconds was when she was still a kid herself, or near enough.

But looking at the little body radiating soft warmth through her little blanket, there’s only one thing that comes to mind.

She understands Lori completely now. She would sacrifice life and limb to keep this little one safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/


	164. Chapter 164

“Everybody ok?”

Everyone in the room turned to the tomb’s door where Rick was coming in.

“Yeah we are.” Maggie answered, surprised and hopeful to see him. He’s been down there for hours, and the fresh shirt and lack of blood on him is a welcome sight, though she’s not quite sure how he managed that since this is the first she’s seen him back in the cell block.

“What about you?” Hershel asked, fixing concerned wary eyes on him.

“Cleared out the boiler block.” Rick answered, grimly. He looks and sounds and _ feels _ like a vague puppet of himself. A heavy shadow.

“How many were there?” Daryl asked, watching him the same way Hershel is but with a little less trepidation and wondering more if Rick’s back to be back or just back to check in. He didn’t actually expect to see him so soon. It feels too soon for him to have his shit back together.

“I don’t know. A dozen. Two dozen.” Rick answered absently, his shoulders heavy and hunched forward. It’s strange seeing him slouch and not standing up tall and proud. He looks...like a wandering soul. Not lost but no idea where he’s going.

“I have to get back. Just wanted to check on Carl.” Rick patted his son’s back and Carl just stared down into his bowl on the table, picking at it with the spoon. He’s barely taken a few bites and that’s only because Eve was watching him earlier. Each warm pat on his back felt like an epipen of relief, allowing him to breathe again for a few seconds. But he couldn’t enjoy it because his dad wasn’t staying. Honestly all he wants right now is to whip around and grab onto his dad and beg him not to leave him alone again but he’s tired. He’s so tired and drained he barely has the energy to close his eyes and savor the brief reassuring contact from the shell of his father.

“Rick, we can handle taking out the bodies. Kay, you don’t have to.” Glenn tried, not even trying to not sound like he’s on the edge of pleading. 

“No I do.” Rick immediately denied the help without even looking at him. Same way he always does when he makes a mess and feels the need to rectify it with his own hands, in a desperate attempt to feel like he’s still in control.

Glenn understands everybody grieves in their own way and he’s not trying to get in the way but should they really let him do this all by himself? He’s worried about him, and Carl. He’s been desperately trying to find anything he can to help them feel even just a little bit better, or at least not alone, but Rick’s made it very clear that he wants to isolate himself and Carl’s become a tin boy. A robot, just going through the motions and shutting access down to everyone except Eve.

Without making the conscious decision Glenn looked to Eve for guidance, no idea what he had wanted to find but somehow it felt like he’d found what he was looking for, just seeing her eyes on Rick, pensive and watching in her ever calm observant manner.

Rick glanced at Glenn and followed his gaze.

He turned, spotting Eve sat beside Daryl on the stairs to the outside and crossed the room in a few long strides.

She immediately stood up, although a bit slowly as her muscles still ache from sleeping on a dusty stone floor last night, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

It felt a little weird, there’s only a few people she’s readily used to making such physical contact with and Rick isn’t one of them but she did it without thinking, just following the instinct that said he needed it.

He’s been looking at the floor since the minute he walked in and if it had been anyone except Rick, who seems to do nothing but look directly at the person he’s talking to or at least some kind of gesture or posture which sends a clear message that he’s listening, she might’ve brushed it off.

He hasn’t been making eye contact for more than a couple seconds and he just looks…tired. Not the sort that can be fixed a thousand year nap. A soul-withering exhaustion that wraps around your whole body like an octopus, restricting your breathing and clouding your ability to feel anything at all.

Rick automatically returned the hug but it was weak and he didn’t fully process how much he needed it until his cheek was leaning against the side of her head.

Eve steadied her legs as more and more of his weight began to sink onto her, unable or unwilling to hold himself up alone.

It wasn’t much but slowly it started to feel just a little bit easier to breathe. The rocks in his lungs just a fraction lighter with every deep breath over a long second and for a split second it reminded him of home.

He truly is grateful to see her safe and sound. He hasn’t seen her since the attack, but he didn’t know she wasn’t here taking care of things. In the far reaches of his mind he’d just assumed she and Daryl were looking out for everyone while he was ...away.

As soon as they pulled apart Rick shared a long look with Eve. Her eyes held the same sympathy as everyone else’s but it was different than normal condolences. It was mournful but not crumbling or reliant in any way. He doesn’t feel like she needs anything or is trying to get something from him.

She may not have a lot of experience with the loss of a loved one but Eve knows better than anyone what it’s like to be on your own. That pain of realizing the spaces next to you are empty making you feel hollow even if you’re surrounded by people. The desperate need to fill it and the helplessness that brings you to tears of being unable to do so.

He stared for a long time but the respect of not trying to understand something that she doesn’t, never changed. She just stared at him quietly, promising that he doesn’t need to tell her or anyone else what to do, she’ll take care of things. He can just do what he needs to without worry; He can take as much room as he needs to breathe. And it’s just about the only look he can stomach right now.

Either that or he’s just seeing what he wants to. Even if he is, it doesn’t matter. The chip of worry on his shoulder is gone, because regardless of whether she consciously meant to or not, he knows that even if the rope slips through his hands, she’ll never let go of it. It’s wrapped around her center and she’d sooner let it drag her straight to the edge than let it go.

Finally he looked back down, nodding to himself, satisfied.

He turned his attention to Daryl. His eyes and stance set, a stiff almost aggressive firmness taking over his posture. “Everyone have a gun and a knife?”

“Yeah. Runnin’ low on ammo though.” Daryl nodded, knowing this coming. Rick would want the run-down on their situation now that he’s apparently gotten at least a little bit of his head back. He did a complete 180 from how he looked just a few seconds ago, having a weirdly long mental conversation with Eve, but whatever he got out of it, he looks better than he did 5 seconds before it.

Sometimes he swears Eve has some kind of bullshit zen powers. She’s just calming. She just has that effect and he’s almost to the point of giving up trying to figure out what it is. Almost.

Glenn jumped into the conversation. “Maggie and me were plannin on making a run this afternoon. Found a phonebook, some places we could hit, look for bullets and formula.”

Eve half-heartedly raised her hand, signaling that she’s gonna go with the two. Mostly because she’d like to get out of here for a bit, but also because it’d be wise to know what’s around them and what the conditions are and be aware of any potential hazards or threats, anything they should be cautious of.

“We cleared out the generator room.” Daryl added as Eve took her place beside him again, picking up her bowl of second breakfast. “Axel’s there tryna fix it, in case of emergency. Gonna sweep the lower levels as well.”

“Good, good.” Rick nodded and just like that, he stormed back off like his true purpose in asking at all was just to know for sure that they’ve got everything handled and he can go back to doing whatever it is he has been calling him down there.

“Rick!” Herhsel called after him just as Rick closed the gate/door closed and disappeared back down into the tunnels without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment. It was more than being ignored, it was like he actually didn’t hear him.

Eve sighed under her breath. She’ll need to keep 2 sharp eyes on him, probably pick up as many of his responsibilities and redistribute them over the newest shoulders of the group, even take on a few of them herself. Best to do that sooner rather than later.

Rick is the kind of person who can move past this with the right sort of support for the sake of his children and those around him, but without it he could just as easily fall into a hole so deep they might never see the real him again.

People like him — and her — who cling to what they’ve got with all they’ve got, don’t handle it well when what they love is taken from them.

Daryl grunted beside her as he set his empty bowl down on the step above them and poked her side to get her attention.

“Hey, I’m gonna take Oscar and go sweep the lower levels of the tombs. Are you comin’?” Daryl asked her seriously, not assuming that she’ll come with this time.

He expected it when she immediately stiffened like a ghost just breathed on the back of her neck and shook her head without even thinking, eyes wide and trying to make their escape from her skull.

His hand grabbed her shoulder and he felt her muscles relax as he said, “Relax, you don’t gotta. Just makin’ sure.”

He’d have eaten his socks if she’d said yes after being trapped down there.

To be perfectly honest he wouldn’t have _ let _her go even if she’d wanted to. He’d rather she stay here and get some rest.

His undivided attention fixed on her when she abruptly put her bowl down, the plastic thing almost tumbling down the stone steps and grabbed her hand the moment it lifted seeking something to grab onto. Guilt flooded him as he realized he made her think about being back in a confined space too soon.

He scooted closer to her, lifting his leg up onto the step they’re sitting on and turned towards her, grabbing her arm and gently pulling until she got the idea and scooted. His shoulder tucked into the crook of his as he wrapped his arm around her back, debating for a second on whether or not to wrap both around her shoulders but decided against it because he doesn’t want to inadvertently make it worse. So he just settled for one arm around her back, using his leg as a support for both of them.

Eve closed her eyes, her forehead resting against the side of his neck, feeling his pulse against her skin and tried to focus on it, catching the slight twinges of the muscles as he looked around and leaned his cheek against the top of her head.

She almost laughed when she realized that this is the exact opposite of what would’ve helped just last year.

It’s hard to believe and sometimes doesn’t feel real just how much their relationship has changed in such a short but looong time. Mere months ago they were struggling just to make physical contact. Now they do it without hesitation. It doesn’t feel too fast though oddly enough, cause there are still things that they struggle with, even some that are only easy under certain circumstances. Somewhere along the way — quite recently actually — they unknowingly agreed to just go by instinct and run with it. It’s sure been a hell of a lot easier to grow accustomed to certain things since that mysteriously happened.

It feels a little surreal sometimes though cause it feels like… like it shouldn’t have been that easy or happened like the flick of a switch. But it did, and she has absolutely no explanation for it, and yeah sometimes they do step on each others toes a little but they’re both respectful of boundaries and aware that neither of them really know where their own boundaries are. They’ve had a few surprise ones sneak up on them, and vice versa there’s been a few they _ thought _ were boundaries because no one else can cross that line but if it’s each other it’s just fine.

Like Daryl’s most prominent one was hugging. He actually does enjoy hugs. Eve’s so far has gotta be hand holding. She thought she was gonna be completely adverse to having her hands occupied like that because it means she can’t grab her knives as fast but nope.

As a pair, it was definitely sleeping beside each other. Eve thought they would end up like Glenn and Maggie, wrapped around each other like koala bears while they sleep and she admits, the thought made her slightly uncomfortable. Which Glenn would probably give her shit for but the idea of being restrained while she’s _ asleep _ makes her feel like she needs to add 10 feet to her personal space bubble.

She doesn’t enjoy the idea. That said, she does however enjoy having some kind of contact. Usually it’s facing each other, cause they both tend to either sleep on their side or their back (and for her, sometimes on her stomach) so they often wake up or fall asleep with their legs tangled or holding/sleeping on each other’s hands and arms, or their faces mushed into an arm or a back.

Basically, _ loose _ and non-restrictive. Easy to get out of and easy to breathe in. Rarely they wake up like Glenn & Mag usually do (those two like to spoon like measuring cups lol) and it’s usually on their backs, Daryl’s arm under her head and laying down the same way you would if you were just staring up at the stars.

Eve was finally altered that time is still passing when Oscar departed from where he was leaning against the railing beside them and went to put his bowl in the washing bucket on the other side of the room.

She clicked her front teeth together a few times. She’s a little nervous about people going into the tombs now, knowing how far they go, how confusing they are, and what lurks down there.

Quite frankly, she’s not the only one with concerns. Daryl isn’t too thrilled about the idea of her goin’ out — and neither is Hershel — but they don’t have enough people to spare anymore and he understands that this is probably the last place she wants to be right now. To fully calm down, she’s gonna need to go outside and be out in the open for a bit.

Glenn will be there. He trusts him. The two of them could get out of anything, they’ve got the devil’s luck and it’s like it magnifies when they’re together. Maggie will be there too, she knows how to handle a panic attack if Eve gets one — though the thought of that happening while he’s not there makes him grit his teeth.

So as he and Oscar got ready to go — Carl volunteering to go with them since they need more hands — Daryl stopped to quietly tell Glenn and Maggie to keep an eye on her for him, to which of course they agreed, he didn’t even need to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/


	165. Chapter 165

Eve parked right in front of the store but with a good 15-20 foot gap just in case and as she turned the car off, Maggie and Glenn both got out, checking the empty front parking lot.

“We’re clear outside.” Maggie said as soon as Eve got out and tossed the keys to Glenn since he’s driving on the return trip.

She took out her knives as Glenn dug into the back and got out his backpack and the bolt cutters for the small grocery store doors.

Glenn took the cutters to the chains wrapped around the front of the doors, keeping out looters as Eve and Maggie stood sentry and when the chain fell from the doors, Eve readied herself to be the first one inside when he opens it. Maggie will stay here and keep watch.

All three of them had to duck the second the door opened as a half a flock of birds came flying out, and Eve couldn’t help it. She started _ laughing _at the fact they all ducked in cover for some birds.

“It’s not funny.” Glenn elbowed her but he was smiling too. “Can you ever be serious for once?”

She pretended to think for a moment before shrugging like he’s out of luck.

Eve went in first, Glenn right behind her just like old times.

Looking around, the inside of the store is untouched. Understandably seeing as how the doors were chained shut. There’s an undisturbed layer of dust covering most things, so that’s a good sign. The only things that have been messed with are the stuff the birds evidently got into but, ‘_ How’d _ they _ get in? _’

Glenn picked up a red basket from right inside the door as he immediately saw a shelf to the left wall filled floor to ceiling with baby stuff.

While he started grabbing things, Eve went farther inside making sure the place is clear and trying to find out how those birds got in.

Walkers didn’t get to them so obviously it’s unlikely there’s any in here, but the birds must’ve gotten in somehow and it’s possible they haven’t been in here long enough to attract attention.

After several quiet, careful steps and listening to Maggie & Glenn talking about duck toys for the baby, she stopped just before a stream of warm sunlight pouring in from above and looked up.

‘_ Well, that answers that question. _’ she stared at the great big hole in the ceiling in the back but what the Hell could have made it? No idea. The floor is all smashed up too. It looked like a damn catapult had tossed a vanishing boulder through the ceiling. There’s water damage on the floor but the ceiling doesn’t have any sort of weakness that she can see and there’s no blood, new or old, so it’s doubtful that something fell through a weak spot in the ceiling.

“Eve, come on.”

Eve clicked her flashlight off and turned back, as Glenn walked out to Maggie with a basket full of stuff.

“We just hit the powder formula jackpot.” Glenn came out of the small store, setting one of the two baskets of stuff he’d collected on the ground as Maggie came over to see.

“I also got beans, uh batteries, cocktail wieners, many mustards. It’s a straight shot back to the prison from here. Probably make it in time for dinner.”

Glenn took the basket he’d kept in his hands and walked towards the car while Maggie grabbed the other one, which is entirely full of formula. Enough to last them for weeks.

“I like the quiet. Back there, back home. You can always hear ‘em outside the fence no matter where you are.” Maggie looked up at the horizon, towards the direction the prison is in, just thinking about the constant whitenoise of growling and groaning outside.

“And where is it y’all good people callin’ home?”

All three of them swung around, guns raised faster than Sonic and moving apart into position that neither of them were in the way of each other’s weapons.

‘_ Oh my god. _ ’ Eve’s eyes widened, lips parting in disbelief. ‘ _ He really survived. _’

“_ Merle _ _ ? _ ” Glenn’s wide unbelieving eyes stared at the man he never thought they’d see again— that he’d _ hoped _ they never saw again.

Merle’s face covered in a river of blood from a fresh cut on his nose.

“Hah! Hahahoooo. Wow.” Merle grinned from ear to ear, that same smile that practically broadcasts how much of an asshole he is. Always seeming sardonic and not unlike that of a shark as he came closer.

“Hey! Back the Hell up!” Maggie shouted.

“Ok, ok, honey. Jesus.” Merle could barely believe this luck.

“You made it.” Glenn stated, clearly disappointed. He was hoping Merle hadn’t made it, even if he’d gotten off the roof. He should’ve known. He suspected that Merle wouldn’t die that easy, unfortunately.

“Can you tell me, is my brother alive?” Merle asked, seriously; his smile gone.

“Huh?” Merle raised an eyebrow when Glenn didn’t respond.

Glenn debated for a second about whether or not to tell him but ultimately decided there’s no point in keeping that information from him. “Yeah.”

Merle’s crooked smile came back with the first genuine happiness and relief he’s had in a long time.

“Hey, you uh, take me to him and I’ll call it even on everything that happened up there in Atlanta. No hard feelings. Huh?”

Glenn remembers a lot about how to read Merle, more than he thought, but he honestly can’t tell if he means that or not. His face and tone of voice say yes, but he knows this redneck asshole well enough to still not trust him.

Glenn warily eyed his arm where a metal cylinder contraption was around his missing hand and a good 7-8 inch blade stuck straight up in the air, attached to the side of the metal & leather contraption.

“Ohahaho, you like that? Yeeeah,” Merle laughed. “Well uh, I found myself a uh, a medical supply warehouse. Fixed it up myself.” he laughed again, shaking his “hand” a little. “Pretty cool, huh?”

Eve’s eyes narrowed. Medical supply warehouse? That sounds just a little too convenient to be true. And it seems a little odd for something like that to be in the middle of the city, nowhere near the hospital. But she doesn’t know enough to know whether that sort of thing even exists. Logically it could, but even if it does, she’s still skeptical about his story. Her eyes scanned him quickly and immediately noticed the lack of excessive grime.

Glenn glanced at her, silently asking if they should trust him and just from the look in her eyes he could hear the ‘absolutely not’.

Beat up, no bag, only two weapons including his _ new _ appendage, but most alarming,... he’s _ cleaner _ than he should be.

The odds of them just _ running into _each other are too low for this to not be foreboding.

Merle’s manipulative. Always has been, always will be.

He kept inching his way closer and Eve was put even more on edge.

When he finally got too close, she had her knives up in seconds.

He stilled, locking eyes with her. Obvious remembrance in his regard of how dangerous she is.

“We’ll tell Daryl you’re here, and he’ll come out to meet you.” Glenn stated with no room for argument. Eve was in full agreement of this plan, but Daryl won’t be coming back alone, she’s coming with him. She doesn’t trust Merle as far as an _ elephant _could throw him.

They’ve clearly made up their minds about how this is gonna work, but Merle’s never been one to take social cues.

“Oh oh oh hold on, just —” Merle inched forward, clearly not gettin’ the whole ‘held at gunpoint’ thing.

“Whoa _ whoa _ .” Glenn put his hand out, stopping him. Eventually. Meanwhile Maggie exchanged a glance at Eve, wondering if Glenn is being too lenient just because they apparently know this guy but when she looked, she was only more confused. Because Eve looks like she’s _ waiting _ for something.

“Hold up — hold up. Uh— hey, the fact that we found each other is a miracle. Come on now. You can _ trust me _.”

That was entirely unconvincing as Merle has _ never _ been trustworthy. The only thing any of them ever trusted him to do — even Daryl — is to not go down easy.

Just because they haven’t seen him in a long time, doesn’t mean they’ll fall for his manipulation. Eve especially not, and Merle knew it just from glancing at her. They’re not the only ones who remember.

Of course he had to run into _ her. _ The damn ghost with a knife. He should’ve known she’d make it just fine. And it looks like nothing’s changed. She looks exactly the same as she used to. Same leather jacket, same knives looking even more at home in her hands if that’s even possible, one of them poised to be thrown the second he so much as twitches. And he still can’t read her, except for the ever present dis-trust and watchful eyes like a damn sentry, ready to spring into action without warning.

His smile faltered, the edge of his mouth twitching in anger but kept up his joker-like grin.

“You trust _ us _ . You _ stay here _.” Glenn’s not falling for it either. He’s gotten a lot smarter in all the time they’ve been separated, not as trusting. It seems he’s got even more nerve now, under the protection of his bladed mercenary friend there.

Merle smiled tightly but just as he did, Eve heard a noise behind them and turned out of instinct. She should’ve known that the second she took her eyes off him, he would try something.

Merle’s face morphed back to his trademark aggression and he pulled his gun shooting straight between the unfamiliar girl and Glenn shattering the back windshield of the old truck.

Eve couldn’t throw her knife, or pull her gun before he was disappearing around the other side of the truck and she and Glenn ran around just in time for Merle to win the ground-struggle with Maggie and get his gun to her head.

“Whoa hold up, buddy.” Merle warned Glenn, holding Maggie like a human shield.

“Let go of her. Let go of her!” Glenn shouted.

Eve clenched her teeth until it felt like her molars were cracking under the pressure. It’s too close. She can’t hit Merle without risking hitting Maggie. Merle’s smart enough to keep moving her, not sitting still enough that Eve’s sniper-shot accuracy can hit him without at least clipping the girl. She should’ve gone around the other side of the car. Merle wouldn’t have been able to see her and she could’ve easily overtaken him.

Merle smiled, practically preening that she can’t do anything to him even though she clearly wants to.

“You know how this works, Rider. Toss ‘em in the back of the car.” Merle ordered and Glenn was both surprised and not so when he heard the clank of her knives clattering into the back of the car through the blown out back windshield.

“Goood. Good, now. Knock her out, Glenn.” Merle ordered him, distinctly flicking his eyes to Eve; fully aware and _ almost _gloating of how in control he is now.

Yeah he remembers how dangerous Rider is. He hasn’t forgotten how crafty this bitch can be. She sees one opportunity and she’ll try to drop him like an anchor.

Glenn took a deep breath through his nose and flat out refused. “No.”

“Knock her out!” Merle shouted and Maggie whimpered as he shook her, digging the barrel into the side of her head. She’s trying to be strong but that’s tough when you’re being held captive by a stranger who she’s heard about but hoped to never meet in the flesh, and thanks to the stories she’s heard about him, she has a too clear idea of what he’s capable of. There’s not a doubt in her mind — nor Glenn & Eve’s — that he _ will _shoot her without a second thought, if he doesn’t get what he wants.

Eve remembers how dangerous Merle is. He thinks _ just _ far enough ahead to be dangerous and not a step further, and prone to irrational decisions when angry. Unfortunately he can be unexpectedly creative when it comes to hurting people to get what he wants, and he’s _ very _protective of Daryl, despite how much of an asshole he was to him.

Eve grit her teeth and looked at Glenn. Feeling the gaze on the side of his head, Glenn turned his head ready to snap his eyes back to Merle without hesitation but he expected a plan or a mental conversation but his eyes widened when he got a single firm nod and she turned, tapping the back of her head.

That’s all the cue Glenn needed but he doesn’t want to do it. He doesn’t want to hit his best friend.

Eve locked eyes with him again though and the firmness told him he has to. They don’t have a choice, this is the plan. It’s time to steel your nerves and play the waiting game.

She turned around and Glenn hesitated but took a deep breath, “I’m sorry.”

Eve closed her eyes and took a bracing breath. ‘_ This place is f**king cursed. _’

_ Whack _

Eve collapsed almost the second the gun made contact with her skull and Glenn lunged to catch her before she split her skull open on the car bumper. Her entire weight slack in his arms made his stomach sink all the way to his tailbone.

“Good boy. Put that gun in the car now. Put it in the car, son.”

Glenn had no choice and did as told, putting his hands up afterwards.

“There you go. Now, we’re gonna go for a little drive.”

“We’re not going back to our camp.” Glenn shook his head.

“No. We’re going somewhere else. Get her in and get in the car, Glenn! You’re driving!” Merle shouted, “Move!”

“_ Don’t.” _Glenn met Maggie’s frightened eyes even if she was doing a good job of keeping the rest of her face calm.

_ “ _Ok.” He gave in and grabbed under Eve’s arms, dragging her around the back of the car as Merle got up, still holding Maggie hostage, an arm around her throat and his gun digging into the side of her head and watched Glenn closely as they went around the car, making sure he doesn’t try anything as he struggled to get a good grip on Eve so he can get her in the car.

Once she was in, Glenn was forced into the driver’s seat while Merle dragged Maggie around the other side and shoved her into the backseat first, still held hostage and got in, closing the door behind him.

A pair of dark eyes watched the red truck drive off from behind a car several yards away and as it disappeared from sight, the woman’s eyes turned to the red shopping basket of baby formula on the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/


	166. Chapter 166

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, with everybody freaking out about the Corona virus, I just wanna take a minute to help reassure you guys. Corona has caused a unique sort of panic in the masses because of misinformation incorrectly handled by authorities and media, which has turned the situation into a pandemic.
> 
> Let me be clear, as it stands right now (May 16th 2020) the panic has caused more problems than the actual virus. Hop online and keep up to date with what's going on from reputable sources such as the CDC and W.H.O, not the media. Stay home as much as possible, clean surfaces like door knobs and things that get regularly touched, take proper precautions like keeping your hands clean and avoid touching your face, and follow instructions for your area if they're issued.
> 
> If you must go out, keep a safe distance from other people in public, keep physical contact to a minimum i.e skip handshakes and hugs. And try to stay calm. If you know people who are old or immune compromised, take extra precautions because it's more dangerous for them than a healthy individual.
> 
> Be alert, don't panic. If you're having trouble staying calm, connect to your social network (digitally) and find some emotional support, to help dissuade your anxiety, hop on the internet and keep up to date. Distractions can be useful at this time, so I also suggest whipping out your favorite movies, books, and TV series, catch up on that series you've been watching or finish that book you wanted to read, play a video game and hang out with your friends over a video chat instead of in-person.
> 
> Try to keep your routine as much as possible. Your day to day rituals will help keep you stable.
> 
> If you can, inform those around you of what's going on and help keep everyone calm.
> 
> So far the only people who have died from corona are the old, those who are immune compromised, and people with preexisting conditions. Healthy people will catch it, fight it off, and create antibodies, just like you would if you caught the flu.
> 
> Stay informed, be cautious and aware but don't panic. Stay safe and take care to protect those around you, everybody. <3

Daryl, Carl, and Oscar moved down the hall quietly in that order, Daryl taking the lead. Even though he has a ranged weapon in these close-quarters passages, he has the most experience and is the least likely to be unable to fight off a walker with his bare hands if he has to.

They moved quietly, their weapons held firmly and Oscar trying his best to imitate the silent step the two in front of him inexplicably have. He’s noticed over the last few days that their entire group has this sort of light-foot but there’s a few of them that seem to be inordinately good at it.

He’s spent the least amount of time with and/or around that Eve woman, but these two, Randall, and Glenn in particular seem to almost revere the woman.

He saw the way the entire group completely relaxed the moment Daryl brought her and T-Dog back through that door. Everybody around here’s got a lot of respect for her, even Rick seems to defer to her — he’d almost guess that they’re related if they looked anything alike, but for once he’s not inclined to question why she seems to have the position that she does. She’s gotta be the most mysterious and aloof person he’s ever met and he hasn’t known her very long, but even he feels a little more relaxed with her presence. It’s that same feeling when you’re really nervous about doing something that needs to get done but you’re not sure if you can do it, and then she showed up like a sure-fire backup plan incarnate.

It’s a weird feeling to get from someone, especially from someone you don’t even know and could kill you in a heartbeat. He’s seen that girl in action and she survived a whole night down here in these tunnels without a flashlight and no idea where she was going (as far as he knows). He hasn’t been dealing with these dead freaks for long so his comparison may be unfair but he’s  _ positive  _ that not just anybody can do that. And yet, the entire group was  _ sure _ she would, it was just a matter of time.

It makes him wonder how many times that’s happened before.

Glenn told him a story late last night, when they were rotating their shifts to look for her down here, about one of the first times she scared the living daylights out of them and came back against all odds. When the Greene’s farm was overrun and Eve was lost. How she saved Randall, twice, and was one of the only people who hadn’t made it to the meeting spot on the highway, and just …

Oscar has a hard time even imagining just how many of these freaks they were surrounded by  _ out in the open _ and what they must’ve had to push through to get to that spot, and then despite being separated from Randall, and then making it back at the very last second.

Oscar has met some tough people in his time, but that woman could mop the floor with all of them without breakin’ a sweat.

Oscar shined his flashlight into a cell even though the ceiling skylights are enough to light the dim grey hallway and a smile instantly crawled across his face.

“Oh, dat’s what I’m talkin’ about.”

Daryl and Carl turned around as he disappeared into a cell.

Daryl’s eyebrows drew down together as he walked into the cell — Carl right behind him, watching Oscar crouch down at the back corner of it. “The Hell you need slippers for?”

“You know, end of the day, relaxin’.” Oscar shrugged at him like it was obvious.

A growl behind them had all three aiming at the door in half a second and the lone walker that dared to creep up on them in this dead end hallway was immediately sprayed with bullets from Oscar and Carl (though Carl’s were more accurate and less wasteful) and a crossbow bolt to the forehead.

Only when it fell backwards and hit the floor, did they relax.

This is routine for them now but the jump scares are the worst part because no matter how used to something you get, the spike of adrenaline from a jump scare makes it feel like you aren’t used to it after all.

“Must’ve been in the cell at the end. We checked everywhere else” Oscar deduced as they all walked out of the cell slowly, just in case.

Daryl’s eyes caught on something sticking out of the side of the walker’s neck and knelt down, grabbing the black handle and slowly slid it out, blood spurting out as he released the wedged skin and arteries from the small blade.

“That’s Carol’s knife.”

Daryl harshly wiped the knife clean on the walker’s prison uniform.

How did—  _ when _ did Carol’s knife get stuck here?

* * *

Daryl stabbed the knife into the ground again, the tip sinking into the concrete less than a millimeter.

His head swirled with the tornado of thoughts running through his mind so fast he couldn’t grab even a single one as they flitted around and around. He could barely tell the general theme as they spiralled, stirring up deep pools of frustration with every one he tried to grab and couldn’t keep a hold of.

Each time he failed to grasp a thought, he stabbed. Each time he grew more frustrated, he stabbed. Each time he wanted to stop thinking but couldn’t, stab. Each time that damn solitary door weakly pushed against the heavy walker corpse on the ground blocking it from opening, he stabbed  _ especially  _ hard.

The squeak of the door every few seconds is in no way helping him think and pouring lighter fluid on the embers of his last nerve.

He stabbed the concrete wall at his back at an especially loud squeak and glared at the offending rusty metal, and it was the last straw. He stabbed the wall again as he sprung to his feet and threw his foot against the door so hard that it slammed and if it had been a normal door made of wood it would’ve caved in, before he stormed away.

But he didn’t get 20 feet down the hall before he was turning back, anger pumping through and bulging the veins on his neck and arms.

His breaths came in & out heavily as his boots scuffed the dusty floor, pacing back and forth in front of the door.

With all the calm of a kicked wasp nest, Daryl grabbed the body by the back of the shirt, dragged it backwards and ripped the door open with Carol’s knife raised.

And was met with nothing. He looked down and froze, until a pair of exhausted blue eyes weakly looked up.

* * *

Rick squinted as he walked down the gravel path towards the fence, eyes stuck on exactly one form as it was limping slowly towards the fence.

Rick stared through the fence as the woman with dark skin and dreadlocks covered in walker entrails and blood approached and grabbed the chain, staring directly at him. Firm eyes filled with suppressed pain and imploring him to open the gate and let her in.

Out of his periphery Rick looked at the red basket in her hand, filled with powdered baby formula. The pearl white katana on the woman’s back was distinctly noticeable, standing out against everything around it. Gleaming and obviously used but looks clean and well taken care of.

The blade gives him the same feeling as Eve’s knives. This strange woman radiates the ability to use it, like she could pull it in a half a second, and that alone is enough to make Rick extremely wary of her, but the formula pilled in the basket is enough to make him care more about why she’s carrying such a thing and nothing else, and how she came here. It hasn’t escaped him that a few certain people left earlier looking for exactly what’s in that basket, and they’ve been gone just long enough that this timing is just a little too coincidental. He set his jaw, gritting his teeth as a dark instinct began clawing its way into the back of his mind.

He narrowed his eyes at her as she flinched suddenly, letting go of the fence to press her hand on her leg for a moment before bringing it back up, the palm of her brown leather fingerless glove now caked in fresh blood from the wound on her leg that must be causing the limp.

The woman dropped the basket and backpedaled as the walkers on the fence next to her started to smell the fresh blood and turned.

She hopped on her good leg, dragging the other as she stabbed the end of the katana straight through the forehead of one before dropping her backpack as the others started to come towards her.

“Should we help her?” Carl asked, from the gate.

Rick didn’t answer, merely glanced at him and then made determined strides towards the gate, Hershel and Beth (with the baby) coming down the path behind him.

Carl watched her slice the head clean off of another walker and then fall backwards. She didn’t trip or anything, she just fell over and laid there, even though 2 walkers were about to be right on top of her.

Two gunshots rang out as Rick got inside the entry gate with Carl glanced at his son as the boy lowered his gun.

“Carl” Rick called and Carl tossed him the keys to the gate.

“Shit” Rick cursed as he threw the newly unlocked gate open and took out his gun.

He and Carl pelted the incoming walkers with headshots as the two of them moved out. Carl ran to grab the basket and backpack, while Rick went to the stranger, kicking her sword away from her first even though she’s fading in and out of consciousness and likely couldn’t fight a wasp, much less a full grown man.

He knelt beside her and Hershel called out, “Is she bit?”

Rick checked her for obvious injuries and looked at where she’s bleeding on her leg, recognizing the wound immediately and called back, “Gunshot.”

Rick grabbed her arm and maneuvered her into a position where he could fireman carry her and headed back inside the gate before the walkers attracted by the gunshots can become a threat.

Carl stopped to grab the sword and sheath before running after his dad and making it back inside the gate.

As the collection of them reached the prison, Carl opened the door for his dad and ran inside, dropping the stuff as Rick & Hershel barked instructions to Beth and everyone to get this or that or to move out of the way as Rick dragged the half conscious woman inside their living space. Not inside the cell block, he’s not bringing a stranger into the heart of their den, just to one of the cages in the corner of this big eating/living space; of which they still can’t decide what to call.

“Here?” Carl rushed to help his dad put her down.

“She’s not coming in the cell blocks.” Rick nodded as he laid the woman down.

Beth handed him a bottle of water and Rick uncapped it, putting his finger over it so he could control the amount he sprinkled on her neck/chest.

“It’s alright. It’s alright. Hey hey, look at me.” Rick tried to get her attention as she came to, a little more lucid and awake.

He waited until she was solidly staring at him, waiting for him to speak before he asked, “Who are you?”

She looked around, breathing heavy and clearly spooked before she spotted her sword near his foot. He was faster though and slid his foot out, knocking it away before she could get anywhere near it.

“We’re not gonna hurt you, unless you try something stupid first, all right?”

“Rick.”

Said man looked over to Daryl, just coming out of the cell blocks.

“Who the Hell is this?” Daryl asked, eyeing the stranger on the floor warily.

“You wanna tell us your name?” Rick asked the woman again, allowing her to use the cage beside her to help herself sit up, but she didn’t answer.

Rick got her eyes to lock with his and whispered, “You wanna tell us your name?”

Again, no answer. At least not a verbal one. Fortunately Rick happens to be quite adept at communicating via eye contact thanks to a certain someone. Coincidentally, an  _ entirely different  _ silent blade-wielding warrior. And ‘no, I’m not going to’ is not a difficult one to decipher.

“Y’all come on in here.” Daryl distracted them all, not caring that much about some injured stranger laying on the floor who won’t even tell them her name.

“Everything all right?” Rick asked, standing up and side glancing at Daryl, not wanting to turn his back.

“You’re gonna wanna see this.” Daryl answered vaguely.

“Go ahead. Carl, get the bag.” Rick instructed. Carl did as told and the others immediately departed into the cell block.

“We’ll keep this safe and sound.” Rick held up her sword as he stared her down, making sure she didn't make a move.

“The doors are all locked. You’ll be safe here. And we can treat that.” Rick motioned at her leg.

“I didn’t ask for your help.” She bitterly hissed but it didn’t have much bite to it, given her current state.

“Doesn’t matter.” Rick shook his head and walked away. “Can’t let you leave.”

He moved past Daryl into the cell block and Daryl closed the gate behind them, locking it before he led all of them to a cell near the back.

Daryl led them to the cell where he’d laid her down and leaned against the wall outside it with his arms crossed. A smile fighting it’s way onto his face as he watched the moment Rick laid eyes on the little mouse they thought they lost in the maze, Carol.

* * *

Carol staggered to her feet and all but collapsed into Rick’s arms, wrapping him a weak hug but tight as she could manage.

“Thank god, thank god.” Rick squeezed her back, sharing his  _ second _ reunion like this in less than 24 hours. Only this time it’s even more unbelievable because they all thought she was dead. They weren’t even looking for her because they found her head scarf soaked in blood and—… they had no hope she was even alive.

“How?” Hershel asked in utter disbelief and as relieved as the day is long, as Rick moved away to let two of them hug.

“Solitary.” Carol answered as she wrapped her arms tight around the old man who has become like a father to them all.

“Poor thing fought her way into a cell. Must’a passed out. Dehydrated.” Daryl chimed in from outside.

Carol released Hershel as she finally looked over his shoulder at Beth, holding a newborn baby sleeping in her arms.

She didn’t even need to ask after a moment of pure happiness as she just looked around and realized Lori didn’t make it.

She whimpered as she covered her mouth and turned to Rick, who was looking down. She put her hands on his cheeks, motherly instinct taking over to comfort and whispered a truly remorseful, “I’m sorry.”

The moment passed quickly, and Carol got to hold the baby for a moment while Rick exited the cell and allowed T-Dog in so he and Carol could have their reunion and talk about what happened after they got separated but it wasn’t much of a story, it didn’t differ too much from his own. It seems all three of them (he, Carol, and Eve) had been forced into very much the same position, with slight exceptions and differences in luck.

Rick motioned at Hershel and Daryl to follow while Randall and Carl and Beth finished up the reunions with a few more hugs and Randall explained to Carol where the others were; either on the run or keeping watch or dealing with other stuff that’s gotta be done while they all came to see her.

Meanwhile Rick brought Daryl to the side specifically because he’s gotta tell him something, and he’s not gonna like it. Especially not after last night.

“So what’s goin’ on? Who is that?” Daryl jerked his chin towards the gate separating them from the stranger in the other room.

“We’re about to find out. Grab your bow.” Rick grit his teeth for a moment, taking a deep breath through his nose. He doesn’t want to speculate to Daryl about what he thinks — what he  _ fears _ may be going on, but if he’s right, Daryl’s gonna flip his lid just like he did when they first met and he told him they’d left his brother to die on a rooftop.

Daryl grabbed his crossbow and the three of them went to find out what this is all about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/


	167. Chapter 167

The woman was sitting at one of the metal tables now, holding a cloth against her wound. Her face said she knew this was coming and she was prepared for the interrogation that was about to happen.

Rick stopped in front of her as Daryl moved closer to the door just in case he needs to shoot her (or more likely threaten her), while Hershel stood behind Rick, sort of in the middle, preparing to be the voice of reason just in case Rick needs a little outside help with his restraint.

“We can tend to that wound for you, give you a little food and water and then send you on your way. But you’re gonna have to tell us how you found us, and why you were carrying formula.” Rick rested one hand on his gun and the other on his hip.

“The supplies were dropped by a young Asian guy with a pretty girl and a quiet woman.”

Daryl went rigid like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on him. His grip on his crossbow tightening until his knuckles were white but he just barely resisted the urge to point it at her head and pull the trigger if she doesn’t tell them if they’re ok.

“What happened?” Rick kept himself calm, having already been expecting an answer like that, what he needs to know is the specifics.

“Were they attacked?” Hershel asked, on his toes and fearfully worried but trying to keep calm and not panic. They’re all highly capable, if they were attacked, there’s every likelihood that they’re ok.

“They were taken.”

“ _ Taken? _ By who?” Rick’s entire demeanor flipped a switch, eyes set on her like a tracking system.

“By the same son of a bitch who shot me.” She answered bitterly, glancing at the side with a snarl to her lip, thinking back on what happened.

“Hey, these are our people.” Rick lowered himself down, almost in a military crouch, getting close to her without alarming her, a terrifying trick he picked up after watching Eve, Daryl, Glenn, and Maggie infiltrate buildings before the rest of them.

“You tell us what happened  _ now! _ ” He grabbed her leg digging his fingers in and she jumped up, away from him, pointing her finger at him like a threat.

“Don’t you  _ ever _ touch me again!”

Rick backed her up but stopped advancing when Daryl’s angry voice came up beside him, his crossbow in full view aiming directly for this woman’s eye, barely 3 inches from her face.

“You’d better start talking. You’re gonna have a much  _ bigger problem  _ than a  _ gunshot  _ wound _ . _ ”

“Find ‘em yourself.” She dared and Daryl almost pulled the trigger right then out of sheer spite.

Rick put his hand on the edge of the bow though and whispered, “Shh shh shh shh. Put it down.”

Daryl didn’t do it immediately. He couldn’t. His blood is  _ searing _ his arms, trying to constrict the vessels enough to pull the trigger themselves. But after a second, only because he knows that she’s the ticket to finding them, that he finally forced himself to lower it, but not even the devil himself could pry his grip off it.

“You came here for a reason.”

The woman sighed through her nose, almost rolling her eyes because she can’t deny it. She did come here for a reason. A desperate grasp of a straw but a reason nonetheless and it’s a little too late to turn back now.

She finally gave in. “There’s a town. Woodbury. About 75 survivors. I think they were taken there.”

“A whole town?” Rick asked, trying not to sound too incredulous but … it’s hard to imagine an entire  _ town  _ of survivors. The biggest group they’ve ever even heard of so far was Randall’s old one, and they numbered only 30-35, even fewer after the shootout/rescue at the bar in town.

The woman continued, “It’s run by this guy who calls himself  _ The Governor.  _ Pretty boy, charmin’, Jim Jones type.”

“He got muscle?” It took every last scrap of patience he has but Daryl forced himself to be dangerously calm. The sort of calm that’s foreboding. When he finds this guy, he’s gonna hang him from a tree like a walker pinata by his own intestines.  _ Alive. _

“Paramilitary wannabes. They have armed sentries on every wall.” She answered, finally being somewhat cooperative.

“You know a way in?” Rick got straight to the point.

“Place is secure from walkers, but we could slip our way through.”

Satisfied, Rick got the final question they need answers to. The one she’s most likely to lie about. “How’d you know how to get here?”

“They mentioned a prison. Said which direction it was in, said it was a straight shot.” She answered not too fast, not too slow but naturally. Not a hint of a lie, not so much as even shifting a single finger suspiciously.

Rick’s faced down a lot of liars, it’s hard to tell when a good liar is taking you for a ride, but weirdly enough, it’s easy to tell when someone’s being completely honest with you.

And in his experience, the words of people who are less prone to talking are more trustworthy than most. The more they talk, the less he trusts them. Or maybe he’s just gotten accustomed to trusting people who don’t talk much. It’s proven to be effective so far.

He has no doubt that this woman has her own motive and objectives but it doesn’t seem to be aimed at them.

For now at least, they’re on the same side. He doesn’t trust her, but they need each other, and it’s clear that all of them here understand that.

“This is Hershel. Father of the younger girl who was taken. He’ll take care of that.” Rick motioned at her gunshot wound before walking away, Daryl following after him with his fingernails digging crescents into his palm.

When Daryl finds her, he’s gonna chain their damn wrists together. He doesn’t give a shit anymore, she is not leaving his side for  _ anything _ . Until she learns how to keep herself out of trouble, he’s gonna be right there in it with her.

He’s tried keeping her by his side in the past and it works a lot of the time, but it’s always the moments when she’s not that something happens. Cause the second someone’s in trouble, she’s darting off to be a hero — and he can’t even fault her for it because that’s almost become her role in the group, and as much as he hates to admit it, she’s good at it. Every single one of them owes their life to her, some more than others but if she stopped intervening and instead tried to keep herself safer...

So maybe it’s better if  _ he  _ sticks to  _ her _ . She’s never gonna stay out of trouble, it follows her like a magnet, and it’s in her nature to respond.

Daryl’s fist loosened, wanting to close his eyes but instead found his gaze on the floor. He’s angry. Angry that she can’t just sit still and leave it up to luck, and that however frustrating it is, he loves that about her.

The only consolation is that she’s not stupid. She doesn’t just jump in, she takes all the time she can to think carefully about how to help, but the sucky part is that no matter how dangerous the solution is, she’s never not willing to take the leap if that’s what she’s gotta do.

The urge to punch the wall was almost unbearable but he didn’t have time to as Rick suddenly set his hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry. She’ll be ok. She always is. She  _ always  _ comes back.”

Daryl clenched his teeth. ‘ _ But will it be in one piece. _ ’

Every time this happens something worse happens. She almost died the last  _ two _ times she “came back”.

He knows Rick’s just tryna help but he couldn’t help but speak his mind. “Even the devil can run outta luck.”

“So let’s not leave it up to that.”

* * *

“How do you know we can trust her?” Oscar asked at the back of the Cell block where the group, minus Hershel & Carl, have gathered to talk about the plan.

“This is Maggie, Glenn, and Eve. Why are we even debatin?”

“We ain’t.” Daryl answered firmly, without hesitation. “I’ll go after ‘em.”

No surprise there, but Beth is still grateful.

“Well this place sounds pretty secure. You can’t go alone.” Rick reminded.

They all know Daryl’s going with or without them but what was unexpected was Beth replying without hesitation, “I’ll go.”

“So will I.” Randall stood up from he sat on the stairs beside Carol, who’s got the baby — being the only experienced mother here.

And if Beth wasn’t surprising enough, Axel and Big Tiny also stepped forward and simultaneously volunteered as well.

“I’m in.” T-Dog agreed in a flat tone, like it was obvious that he’s not staying here; which it was, but the verbal confirmation was appreciated nonetheless.

It became blindingly apparent right after Oscar finally echoed T-Dog and said, “I’m in.” that not one of them  _ isn’t  _ willing to go after their people.

Rick sighed, both pleased and not so, because they can’t  _ all  _ go. They can’t leave the prison undefended no matter how secure it is. That means it’s up to Rick to make the final decision, as always.

Carol, the baby, Hershel, and Carl are obviously staying here. It’s too dangerous to take Beth if they don’t have to, she doesn’t have as much experience with this high-risk stuff as the rest of them. Big Tiny isn’t a good idea either because he’s not exactly difficult to spot. So they’re all staying.

Randall has a bum leg so if they have to run — which they probably will, he might slow them down. But he’s also a  _ really _ good shot, he’s not sure they can afford to leave him either.

Daryl’s an even more obvious choice than T-Dog, he’s not sure— no he’s  _ positive _ he wouldn’t be able to convince him to stay even if he was dumb enough to try. Rick is going, that woman out there is coming with them. So that leaves Oscar, Axel, and Randall.

Axel should stay. Rick doesn’t know his capabilities and he’s too skittish, he can barely handle a knife properly from what Rick’s seen. He’d be a worse choice than Beth.

That means Rick only has one question before he makes the final decision. He looked at Oscar.

“Can you shoot?”

Oscar nodded. He’s not a  _ great  _ shot but 9 times outta 10 he can hit the target center-mass.

“Well that settles it then.” Rick made his decision and began explaining the plan.

Rick, Daryl, T-Dog, Oscar, Randall, and that woman are going.

Tiny, Axel, Beth, Carol, Carl, Hershel, and the baby are staying here. That should be sufficient defense while they’re gone, and a smaller group is better for a stealth operation like this.

Now if only their _number one_ **and **_number two _stealthers weren’t two of the people who need rescuing.

* * *

“I got the flashbangs and I got the tear gas. You never know what you’re gonna need.” Daryl — along with Oscar — loaded up the trunk of the green car with a significant amount of firepower, before grabbing his vest and swinging that on, while Oscar went back inside for the rest and Carl came up next to him.

“Hey” Daryl greeted offhandedly, quickly grabbing the heavy tool kit (subconsciously remembering that it was Dale’s, but it’s been added to) from him and put it in the back while Carl put in a tan military backpack at the same time.

“Hey, don’t you worry about your old man. I’m gonna keep my eye on him.” Daryl reassured the only way he knows how, and it worked. Carl looked at him and nodded, a little half smile sweeping across his face and gone just as fast but it’s ghost lingered around his eyes.

It’s a welcome change to the numb mask the kid’s been ducking behind since his mom…

Fortunately or unfortunately depending on perspective, Daryl knows a thing or two about masks. It’s only the second time Daryl’s seen him without it since. The first being when they were clearing out the catacombs still before he found Carol, and he told Carl about how his own mother died.

He has to confess though, he learned how from the best. Eve unintentionally taught him when she told him about the burn scars on her shoulder. The only way to get someone to open about, especially about pain, is to share your own.

Somehow sharing it with Carl was easier than sharing it even with Eve. Aside from the fact he had to actually say it and explain how he had felt about his mom unintentionally burning herself to death by drinking & smoking in bed, instead of the kid being able to decipher it from Daryl himself. It was a weird experience but he was surprised that it not only helped Carl but also helped  _ him. _

He doesn’t know why, but he felt compelled to say it, “I’m bringin’ her back.”

He gave Carl a brief pat on the back as they both moved back from the car to continue what they gotta do.

“I know.” A hint of a smile creased Carl’s young eyes, entirely faithful in what he said next, “Eve doesn’t make promises she can’t keep.”

Daryl stared at him profoundly as Rick took his son off to the side to talk to him for a moment.

How did  _ he  _ wind up being the one comforted by Carl?

Beth opened the upper gate as that woman limped over to her.

“Wasn’t this place overrun?”

“It was.”

“And you cleared it out all by yourselves? Just the few of you.” She was utterly flabbergasted with disbelief, but impressed. They have no reason to lie about how they came to be here. And it’s pretty obvious these people know what they’re doing and can handle themselves. She wouldn’t doubt it if these guys are even more capable than Woodbury. Woodbury’s got numbers but the longer she’s here, the more she’d actually bet on these people.

Beth stopped, a woman with long dark hair appearing in her mind. “There were others.”

“I’m sorry.” The woman apologized and conveyed her condolences simultaneously. It was a stupid question to ask, of course they couldn’t have done it all by themselves. She just wasn’t thinking because she couldn’t believe this place was actually cleared out. Despite being surrounded by strangers with a thin thread of circumstantial trust between them, this is the safest she’s been in a long time.

Woodbury had made her skeptical and suspicious right from the start, partly because she was taken there against her will “out of the goodness of their hearts” but these people — as dangerous as they  _ definitely  _ are — for some reason they don't raise any red flags, and she’s not even suspicious of why not because she came here on her own. They have no reason to be after her and what they want from each other is crystal clear. Almost like a trade for mutual gain.

Rick brought Carl to the side, finally in his right mind to have this conversation with his son. Because they both need it, but Carl needs it more — he needs to hear it from Rick.

“What you did for mom—”

“I had to.” Carl cut him off, sounding more defensive than he meant to.

“Yeah, I— I know.” Rick sighed, trying to reassure just through his gentle tone that he’s not in trouble. How could he ever be in trouble for not letting his mother turn into a flesh eating monster. “I know and I’m sorry. No one should have to go through that.”

Carl looked down, breathing a sigh. He doesn’t want to talk about this. “How long are you gonna be gone?”

“Look if something happens while we’re gone—”

“We’ll be alright.” Carl cut him off again.

Rick felt a sharp pang in his chest. He’s trying to be a father but Carl’s not letting him and he can’t be angry at him for it because he knows. He left him to deal with his mother’s death on his own while he himself was drowning in grief. He shouldn’t have done that. He’ll forever regret it, because it must’ve been so much harder for him. And Carl  _ still  _ handled it better than he did.

Rick shook his head and continued because this is important. “If anything happens, get everyone locked in the cells, keep them all safe.”

“I will.” Carl nodded. That’s basically what he’s been doing all along. Every time his dad and the others leave to do something, he’s always the one entrusted with the responsibility of keeping the more vulnerable members and their base safe. He’s accustomed to this responsibility by now.

“I know. I know you will.” Rick nodded with the utmost confidence. He knows Carl can handle this. He just needed to make sure that Carl knew what to do and had a plan just in case, instead of having to come up with one on the spot if something happened.

Rick nodded. “Take care of your sister.” Rick rested his hand on the side of Carl’s neck, reminding him how young yet how grown his son has become in just over a year. It’s both amazing and utterly heart-breaking how tragedy can help a person grow.

“Daryl’s been calling her ass kicker.” Carl called after him, stopping him before he got even 6 feet from him.

Rick turned back, “Ass-kicker?”

He breathed a laugh. A true smile on his face for the first time in days. He’s not even surprised. “Has he, now?”

“I’ve been thinking what should we really call her?”Carl leaned his arm against the stone wall/pillar that holds up the over-walk between the main building and the office building above them.

“What do you think?” Rick came back, leaning his shoulder on the other side of the pillar, giving his undivided attention.

“Remember my third grade teacher, Mrs.Mueller?”

“Of course.” Rick nodded.

“Her first name was Judith. Do you think that’s a good name?”

“I think that’s— that’s a fine name.” He stumbled over his surprise mid-sentence. A warm feeling enveloped Rick’s tattered heart. He didn’t expect Carl to have put so much thought into this when even he hadn’t yet. He’s only had a sister for a couple of days and he’s already shaping up to be her big brother. “Judith it is.”

Carl smiled and Rick put his hand on his son’s back, squeezing his neck affectionately and proudly as they walked back.

He’s gonna be a great brother. That puts a part of Rick at ease that he wasn’t even aware was pressing on him. Not a lot of people talk about it, but there’s always this fear for parents that their kids will react badly to a sibling, or they’ll grow up to hate each other; fight and bicker, and not be there to help each other out, or even worse. Especially when you’ve got a boy and a girl. But it seems Rick doesn’t have anything to worry about.

* * *

Glenn stretched his aching jaw, letting some of the blood pooling behind his bottom teeth drool out of his mouth. The duct tape strapping his wrists to the wooden chair, chafing his skin raw.

The musty, poorly bricked room filled with the smell of dust and rust made it even harder to breathe. But it’s lit by actual light bulbs that were clearly installed by someone who wasn’t putting them in to be pretty. That means there’s a generator though.

This room is filled with disassembled furniture, suitcases, old paintings, an exposed ceiling. Like some kind of repurposed storage unit and has a ‘grandma’s basement’ feeling to it, or a garage sale.

There’s weird stuff in here but most of it is like junk that’s been pushed to the sides to make room for the chair he’s in, and the scuffed wooden table that Merle’s sitting on in front of him. Other than that, he regrettably can’t tell much about where they could possibly be.

“I gotta hand it to ya, a lot tougher than I remember.” Merle’s voice grated on his eardrum. “No surprise you lasted this long. Shoot, I figured the way Officer Friendly abandoned people, he would have left you behind by now. But he didn’t do that, did he?” Merle probed for information more carefully than most but more obviously than someone who  _ really  _ knows what they’re doing.

He knows what Merle’s trying to do. He’s not even trying to hide the manipulation, trying to get information out of him. He’s not exactly subtle and he knows it, so he doesn’t try to be. He’s manipulative but he’s no master.

Glenn clenched his teeth, keeping his mouth shut as the purple and red blooms began to appear on his skin like a paper towel dropped over pools of fresh paint.

“So tell me, where y’all been at?”

“It’s just a matter of time before they come looking.”

“I’ll bake a cake. With  _ pink  _ frosting. Would they like that?” A dull almost bored smirk pulled at the corner of Merle’s scruffy mouth as he slowly shook his head. “Ain’t nobody comin’.”

“Rick is.” Glenn stated matter-of-factly, not a doubt in his mind that the others  _ will _ come for them. “And when he gets here—”

“He’s gonna do nothing, not if he wants you, Rider, and Bo peep back. Think I’m in this by myself?” Merle leaned his arm on his leg, the metal contraption over his stump clinking, the long blade attached to the end not even glinting in the low light, in desperate need of a polish.

“You can’t take us all. There’s too many of us.” Glenn isn’t even sure himself if he’s bluffing or not. He has no idea if Merle’s bluffing about not being alone. If he is alone, there’s no way he can take them on; it’s a miracle he even managed to capture the 3 of them. If he isn’t, then it depends on how big and how capable his group is. But even he’s got a whole camp behind him with over a dozen people, there’s no way they’re as capable.

No matter if his camp is armed or has a good setup, Rick and the others will find them and give them Hell. Assuming Eve doesn’t find a way out on her own first. And with what he’s done to Glenn? Daryl’s brother or not, Eve’s not gonna let him get away with this. If he’s laid a finger on Eve,  _ Daryl _ won’t let it slide either.

Merle smirked, sunken eyes glinting with amusement and it faded off his face as he spoke, “Without Rider, there ain’t a pair of nuts between the whole pussy lot of you.”

Anger rose up inside him like a boiling pot.

Merle is underestimating their experience just because they haven’t seen each other since Atlanta. He has  _ no idea _ what they’ve been through, what they’ve weathered to get this far.

And he knows he should be playing this smarter, that Merle underestimating them is a good thing, but he can’t help defending against Merle’s condescending tone, especially not when every inch of his upper body hurts, all radiating down from his head. His eye is already swelling so much he’s having a hard time seeing out of it and his jaw aches like some of his teeth should’ve come loose but he probed his tongue around his mouth earlier and although everything is numb, he’s sure all of them are intact.

Glenn spoke forcefully, “We’ve been on the  _ road _ , not hiding in some dungeon.”

“Rick, Shane, Dale, Jim, Andrea.” The second he said her name, a twisted smile stretched across Merle’s face, like the cat who caught the canary.

“ _ Reeeeally? Is that right? _ ”

Glenn’s stomach sank to the bottom of his shoes. He messed up. He doesn’t know how, but that smile — somehow Merle knows he was bluffing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/


	168. Chapter 168

Glenn struggled against the duct tape but no matter how hard he jerked his arm all it did was move the wooden chair a few inches. He could stand up since his legs are free but he has no idea when Merle will be back or what he even left to get but his gut is twisting with anxiety, a cold sweat collecting on the back of his neck because he has an idea and he hopes to god he’s wrong but knowing Merle Dixon, it could even be infinitely worse than what he’s thinking.

He didn’t have much longer to think about it before the sheet-metal door swung open, hitting the haphazard brick wall with a loud ‘ _ bang _ ’.

A sharp intake of breath stung his lungs and made his chest ache horribly, his heart rate skyrocketing as the mutilated corpse stumbled into the room on a metal leash.

Grotesque yellow puss-filled eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets fixed on him and a lunch-losing snarl roared from the walker as it dragged Merle into the room behind it.

The black and brown sludge around its mouth clung around it’s teeth, saliva — or rather what used to be saliva — drooled down it’s mangled chin, it’s lips long gone like something chewed them off as it snapped it’s jaws at Glenn, trying with all it’s might to rip out of the grasp of Merle’s metal leash.

“Alrighty. I want you to imagine how I felt fightin’ my way off that rooftop.” Merle struggled to keep his grip on the metal claw pole that held the walker captive by its neck.

“One handed. Losing blood.” Merle let the walker so close that if it had an inch more it’d scratch Glenn’s face off without a thought. “Walkers chomping down on me every step of the way.”

Glenn tried to lean back as far as he could but he couldn’t lean so far that the chair tips over or he’s screwed.

“Last chance.  _ Where’s your group? _ ”

Glenn shot a venomous glare at him, jaw locked and mind whirling with how to get out of this.

Adrenaline psyching him up for what’s about to happen because he has no doubt about what Merle intends to do. There’s no way he won’t go through with a threat, at least Merle’s reliable in that if nothing else.

“Alright suit yourself.” Merle backed towards the door, fighting with the walker trying to pull forwards and devour the first thing in it’s sight; Glenn.

“You’re a pretty big snack for this fella but you know what they say. He’s gonna be hungry again in an hour.” As soon as Merle got to the door, he released it and all but shoved the walker forward, slamming the door behind it.

The second the door shut, Glenn jerked as hard as he could on his arms, it was the only thing he could think of, but he only got 2 tugs before his feet flew up and slammed against the walker’s chest, pushing himself over as it threw the walker back.

Glenn braced for the impact as the back of the chair hit the ground.

Glenn didn’t have time to even recognize what hurt as he threw all of his weight to the side and managed to roll the chair while the walker was struggling to get off the floor.

He managed to get up before the walker but only by a few seconds and it came stumbling towards him again.

His eyes flew to the stack of suitcases between them and he slammed his shoulder into them, toppling them straight into the walker which made it stagger long enough for him to find something else, he just needs to buy himself enough time to think and his luck was on the up again as he noticed the wire frame of a spring mattress right to him.

He threw it open with any haphazard movement he could just in time to use it as a shield against the walker.

It worked, but not as well as he’d hoped. The walker’s body was stopped and it’s teeth were kept at bay but it’s arms went straight through, unflinching at the tearing the wires did on what’s left of its flesh.

Glenn struggled to hold it back and keep its fingernails away from him before he threw his whole body weight into pushing it backwards and slammed it against the remains of the suitcase stack and the wall, before losing his balance and stumbling away.

Again though, it only bought him enough time to think of his next way to buy more time.

It came at him again after just a few seconds and he kicked the table at it until the table flipped over on top of it, forcing the walker to fall backwards against the pile of debris and Glenn staggered around, having enough time to look around desperately, and  _ finally _ an idea.

Glenn threw himself backwards as hard as he could into the wall, the legs of the wooden dining chair immediately snapped off and splintered all over the floor but the rest of it remained intact, so he did it again and felt the chair break apart just enough that one more smash should do it but he looked up and knew in a heartbeat that he only had one more before the walker would tear him apart so he threw his all into it.

Someone up there must like him because the chair fractured apart like it’d been blasted with a shotgun and he had just enough time to block the walker’s teeth with the wood post duct taped to his forearm.

He pushed it back one last time before twisting his other arm awkwardly and stabbing the remains of the chair arm through the back of it’s skull, popping the eye out and almost puking as the smell of rotting fish permeated the air and grey-yellow pus squirted out from the socket. Glenn barely managed to avoid the spray as the walker fell in a dead heap at his feet. His back against the wall, hunched desperately trying to cradle his abused ribs, and panting as he could finally breathe.

His muscles tensed, a vein popping in his neck as his teeth ground his molars into sand paper. And he couldn’t help opening his mouth and letting it out like a pot of boiling water with no hole in the lid to relieve the pressure. He screamed so hard his entire torso wanted to convulse in pain and ultimately stopped him, but the scream sent only one message.

If Merle thought  _ this  _ would stop him, he was  _ dead  _ wrong.

* * *

“So, they know Andrea.” The Governor leaned against the front guard rail on one of the Hum-v’s they collected from the national guard survivors they ambushed a while ago.

“But they don’t know she’s here.” Merle confirmed.

“But they do know your brother.”

“He and Rider do.” Merle nodded. “But I don’t know about the other girl, I’ve never seen her before.”

“Their people may come for ‘em.” The Governor kept the exasperation out of his tone. Merle’s decision to bring these people back was impulsive but he knew there was a chance — slim as it was — that Merle would eventually find a thread of his brother’s whereabouts to grasp. Merle’s an effective instrument but he can be unpredictable at times. He’s difficult to control. He had his doubts about Merle’s brother being out there still, but the longer he’s been with them the more he’s believed it, because if Merle’s brother is anything like him, he wouldn’t go down easily.

“Maybe.” Merle nodded. “The kid and Andrea both say they went back for me.”

Andrea’s only been in Woodbury for maybe a week but when she told him that they went back for him in Atlanta, he thought she was talking shit. Turns out, she wasn’t. He still finds it hard to believe though.

“So what? He won’t break, say where his people are?” The Governor pressed.

Merle shook his head.

“He’s a tough son of a bitch. Picked that walker apart in minutes.” Martinez, the Governor’s right hand man shook his head from where he leaned against the massive military truck next to them. He’ll never admit it out-loud, especially not to these two, but this ‘Glenn’ guy earned some major respect from him for that. He thought he was a goner — more than half of their own “military” people wouldn’t have made it out of that, much less  _ kill  _ the walker in under 5 minutes.

“Maybe a winter in the sticks put some hair on his balls.” Merle praised. There’s only one thing in this world that earns legitimate praise from him, and that’s feats of strength, usually from violent fights.

“We’ll need him for leverage if his people come.” Martinez pushed off the truck. “What you try to kill him for?”

“He pissed me off.” Merle answered with a tinge of anger. Like he was daring him to question his actions again and see what happens.

“What’s the girl say?” The Governor spoke up before they could get into it.

“I was just about to go talk to her next.” Merle nodded at him.

“No, not her. The other one, with the knives.”

Merle’s expression changed into something they’d never seen before. Something like reluctant reverence. No that’s not it. It’s more like … caution.

They haven’t seen anything yet that could take away Merle’s unapologetic satisfaction without being immediately replaced by his ruthless anger. This is new. He’s never  _ not _ had something disrespectful to say about a woman.

“You won’t get a word outta her.” he shook his head.

The Governor’s eyebrows dipped in confusion, the expression  _ almost _ accusing with a hint more curiosity than insult. “Why not?”

“I spent months with those people, I’ve only heard her speak  _ once _ . Thought she was a mute before that. You’d be hard pressed to find another chump who could keep his lips as tight as Rider.”

The Governor’s eyebrows went up slightly, toward his left hand man.

_ Merle _ just called this woman by her  _ name _ .

No derogatory nickname or sexist comment.

Even Martinez was in a pseudo-state of shock.

The most concerning and equally most interesting thing about it being the begrudging  _ respect _ written all over his face.

The curiosity and urge to know exactly what this mysterious woman did to earn such a thing from him was insane, and popped a question past The Governor’s thin lips before he could stop himself. “What did she say?” 

Merle shifted, smirking at what looks like a bittersweet memory that he’s somehow taking twisted amusement out of now but still angry about deep inside. How could he not be? The only person who’s ever effectively silenced him and a  _ woman _ no less.

“Two words,.....  _ walk away.” _

Martinez wanted to laugh — it  _ should  _ have been funny. But for some reason, Merle’s tense posture just recalling the incident, put him on edge and he couldn’t find it in him to laugh. Not even fake it.

Anybody who makes Merle cautious is enough to make Martinez wary and The Governor concerned.

“You won’t get nothin’ outta her.” Merle was quick to change the subject as he saw the wheels turning in The Governor's head.

“I’ll take care of it.” The Governor walked past him, Martinez following behind closely as they went back into the building that’s disguised as storage to the rest of the community. It’d be bad if folks knew this place was for holding people. No need to freak them out even though it’s a necessary thing these days to protect themselves from outside threats.

Merle chewed his bottom lip when they were gone, not sure how this is gonna play out but he ain’t thrilled about The Governor disregarding what he said about her.

She was deadly back then, if Glenn’s nutted up this much, he can only imagine what it’s done for Rider.

He locked her up tight for good reason but if she’s got more tricks up her sleeve than she used to… it might not be enough.

* * *

This place looks like it used to be a meat locker but she’s never seen a meat locker made of concrete before.

It’s almost reminiscent of the cells back at the prison but all one solid dark grey color and no furnishings. Just a giant concrete box with a sheet-metal door. It clearly wasn’t made by any architect. More like someone with a cement mixer and a rudimentary understanding of how to make a cellar.

Eve’s eyes closed again, a deep steady breath through her nose and a long slow exhale.

She’s been “meditating” for almost half an hour. Waiting.

She can hear faint sounds sometimes. The distant sounds of someone taking a punch, unfortunately she knows all too well what that sounds like and who it most likely is. It was followed a few minutes later by a whole lot of desperate yelling and then something that sounded like a war cry. That wasn’t disturbing  _ at all _ .

On the bright side, she knows Glenn is nearby. Hard to tell how close but he can’t be more than a few rooms to the left. That’ll make it easier to get out of here when she finds the opportunity.

She clenched her hands again. The cold sweat long dried, leaving her hands feeling tacky. She carefully turned her wrists again. The thick dusty silver chain links are running over the top of her jacket for the most part so at least her skin is largely protected, but it’s also pinching the leather tight in some places, especially around the crooks of her elbows where the chain stops. Like she’s wearing full forearm gauntlets.

It looks kinda cool actually. If only she had super strength and could rip the hooks out of the walls with some concrete blocks on the end and just go guerrilla warfare on this place; wherever this place is. Instead, it took her a few minutes to figure out how to get on her feet without hurting herself with an act of almost pure upper body strength to pull herself off her knees and get her feet underneath her so she could stand.

She looked down again and scoffed, eyeing her new  _ fashionable~ _ knee-high boots of literal steel.

‘ _ Someone learned to be cautious. Too bad he had to lose a hand to figure it out. _ ’

She rolled her shoulders for the 3rd time, trying not to let them get too sore as her arms are stretched out wide.

The dull fluorescent bulb above her head was definitely put in after it was built. Haphazardly too. The wires are just hanging from the ceiling and go out the top corner of the door, they didn’t even bother to thread them through a hole in the wall instead, they just cut the top corner of the door off.

Clearly this room was  _ built _ to be a makeshift holding cell but it must’ve been built a while ago. The faintest traces of blood on the floor and in the cracks and stuck around the square panels where the hinges are attached to the floor right behind her are enough telling that she’s not the first who’s been here. Anyone willing to  _ build _ a cell like this, apocalypse or not, intends to use it quite often. For what though? Sadistic torture? Somebody got a psychotic kink or  _ just  _ psychotic?

It feels like she’s been caught by a serial killer, the room has  _ that _ sort of vibe about it. But one look at the door makes her wonder about the intelligence of whoever built it. It’s like two different people designed it.

The inside was clearly designed by someone who knew what they were doing. But the door looks like someone just went to the junkyard, picked up a sheet of metal, slapped a couple hinges on it and voila.

If her hands weren’t bound up she’d have gotten out of here already just by walking over and prying the pins out of the hinges. Don’t even need to unlock it.

She twisted her wrists again, slowly trying to wriggle her arms in just the right ways that the chains will slip far enough down that she can just pull her hands free and let them fall. Getting her legs out will be harder but if she can get even just one hand free, it won’t be too difficult to get the rest off.

Whoever made this obviously wasn’t thinking about the Chinese finger-trap. The tighter you pull, the more stuck you get, the more you relax, the easier it is to get out.

Without actual cuffs around her wrists, this is not nearly as effective as they no doubt thought it would be.

It is a bit painful though. If it was her bare skin she might not have been able to. She’s said it before and she’ll say it again, leather is her best friend. This jacket has been her saving grace more than once and if she can help it, she won’t ever go  _ anywhere _ without it.

Eve immediately stopped moving at the sound of footsteps outside the door.

A moment later a shadow passed under the door and lingered,  _ ‘tinking _ ’ sounds of metal made her teeth close and she ceased moving, as the door was unlocked and gently swung open to reveal someone that was most definitely  _ not _ Merle Dixon.

‘ _ So Merle isn’t alone then. I thought this was a little too sophisticated for him. Even if he’d been living here since the week we lost him. _ ’ Her eyes scanned the tall pale man as he stepped inside and smiled like a friendly neighbor as he closed the door behind him and immediately she was on edge.

Her first thought was he looks like he should be the manager at some kind of small town fair ground. A textbook 9-5er with a decent sized office and a “friendly business” attitude.

A decent gun on one hip and a small knife on the other, and he’s  _ clean  _ from head to toe. His  _ hair _ is styled.

The distinct lack of facial hair was surprising. It’s weirdly disturbing to see and was an immediately red flag. It looks like he must’ve shaved within the last 24 hours. If he had time to worry about shaving they must be set up pretty nice.

She’s got a bad feeling about this. There’s something about this guy that’s just...not quite right.

Her expression darkened with her deducing thoughts, settling into a mask of solid neutral rock.

He stood across from her, sizing her up with a smile fake enough to be a politician. But no amount of smiling can cover up the aura around him. Something no self-respecting introvert would miss.

It’s the smile the popular kid has in school or the person who thinks themselves charming, thinking no one can see through their bullshit.

Anyone who stops to think about them for even just a little while and takes a good look at how they behave or what they do, would see it plain as day.

* * *

**Eve’s POV**

“You can relax, I have no intention of hurting you.” Bullshit. “Unless you make me.” You know a threat works best when you don’t make it at all. Imagination is far more powerful than a person could ever be.

“You’ll have to forgive Merle, he can be a bit on the impulsive side. Then again,” he pointed at me. “You know that already, don’t you? He told me you used to be a part of the same group. Eve, right?”

That was a weak blatant attempt to get me to talk. He certainly didn’t come out swinging.

Resisting the urge to just look to the side at an invisible audience was almost overwhelming. I wonder if he can hear the crickets too?

He smiled wider like he’s won something but that my dude, is a farce as plain as a white t-shirt.

He started talking and I listened with watchful eyes for the greater part of what felt like an hour but was probably barely 20 minutes and I’m surprised I didn’t tune out.

He tried every trick in the beginner’s ‘manipulation for dummies’ manual to get me to talk, and I spent 9/10ths of the time inwardly smirking because I could see the growing frustration.

He’s better than your average Joe at manipulation, I’ll give him that, but frankly this shit would only work on someone desperate or grasping at straws.

I wanted to close my eyes and roll them every time he finished a sentence while he droned on. Fortunately I’ve long since mastered the art of ‘stone face’ and gave him nothing but a slow blink every once in a while when my eyes began to dry.

This has been underwhelming. I expected him to try something pretty sneaky but after a while he’s restored to poorly veiled threats and looks to be in no mood to play games anymore. But he’s told  _ me _ a lot more than he meant to, without even realizing it. Chief among those things being, this group Merle’s with is much larger than I anticipated, they have a hefty military strength, he believes we won’t get out of here at all much less alive, he’s extremely confident in his abilities to manipulate a situation and is willing to use an indeterminate number of means to get what he wants, he’s not as determined to play nice guy as he should be if he actually wanted the information, he’s used to getting what he wants through some petty tricks, he’s the leader of this group and they call him “The Governor”, and he’s  _ unstable _ .

There’s something wrong with this guy. Just the way he talks and the way his expressions are just slightly wrong, just enough to be telling that it’s not real. I can’t put my finger on exactly what it is about him but it’s like watching someone strung out on the edge of a cliff and still trying to barter.

He also talks too much.

Your skills in manipulation are almost laughable, bub. Makes me wonder how he managed to become the leader of a group. Makes me wonder if I’m staring down the result of what would’ve happened if we’d all bought into Shane’s spiel and he succeeded in both killing and superseding Rick.

What were you before this? A storefront salesman? Shane would’ve mopped the floor with you. At least his lies were somewhat plausible and difficult or near impossible to disprove.

I have to admit it’s quite interesting seeing a wolf in sheep’s clothing up close like this. I’ve only ever seen people like this from a distance and  _ kept _ that distance carefully.

The closest I’ve ever come was the  _ one _ time someone like this in grade school tried to approach me attempting to trade a fruit cup and “friendship” for my cookie.  _ My cookie _ .

I watched with indifference as he grew more impatient but a dark concern is starting to grow in my gut. I’ve been around plenty of people who’ve had it rough and didn’t handle it well, in my life. This is like being in a locked room with an addict who’s about to go through withdrawal and you’ve got their dope.

It didn’t take long after that for him to realize talking won’t get him anywhere, and the moment I’ve been patiently waiting for finally came.

His smile faded and the frustration in his eyes burned against the rock in mine, like trying to melt steel with a birthday cake candle. Eyes going dark like someone blew it out.

His thin lips parted in a dead flat tone, “Fine. Have it your way then.”

‘ _ Ahhh, there’s the real face. Let’s see what you resort to when tactful words and pretty lies fail. _ ’

* * *

**3rd Person POV**

Four hours.

Four hours he’s been at this, trying everything he knows to get someone to talk and not a word — barely even a  _ grunt _ when the pain hits.

When Merle said she wouldn’t talk, he took it as a challenge. He wanted to get her to speak but this?

This woman is one of a kind. He was right to be wary. The only person in the world who can shut down Merle, and now he knows why. This one isn’t riled up easily…if at all.

It’s uncanny how much she reminds him of Michonne but even she cracked eventually, but not Eve. Oh no. She’s cool as ice and steady as stone.

Michonne’s silence was daring and almost hostile. Eve’s is like a shadow. Filling the entire room, unending and hardly shifting, yet you never know what could be lurking right inside, just under the surface and doesn’t even bother to taunt because sooner or later you’ll have to enter the room with or without knowing what’s hidden in the dark.

He’s starting to think that even if he grabbed a tool kit and started pulling fingernails that at most he’d get clenched teeth.

There’s almost a haunting sense about her. It feels like he’s caught a ghost.

Eve on the other hand has gone beyond rage. She absolutely  _ cannot  _ catch a break. This prison — this  _ area _ is f*cking cursed. But they’ve put way too much into this already, so cursed or not, it’s theirs and she’s not giving it up.

When you’re in the sticks, the only thing you can do is grit your teeth, light a fire and burn through to the ashes.

No matter what he did, not a peep. And just to boot, despite everything he tried, she finally gave him something.

She smiled, half her face swollen from the creative beating, and spat blood in his face, nailing him right in the eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/


	169. Chapter 169

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a rough day. Sorry in advance.

He grabbed her jaw furiously. His grip so tight it feels like he’s trying to crush her bones with his bare hands but it isn’t enough, not nearly enough. Her eyes were still defiant and not a sound other than the faintest grunt.

His eyes burned with fury and his hand clenched like a vice around her throat, squeezing so hard it was shaking.

He got so close to her face she could smell the faint of whiskey on his breath and feel it drying her eyes. It made her sick to her stomach, but not a lick of it showed.

He made threats but frankly, she’s heard better. It wasn’t until he threatened to do something to Maggie that she froze.

The temperature of the room dropped, and slowly her eyes grew cold. Cold until they were burning so hot that for a split second it actually felt as if his skin was burning. Burning like he was staring into the sun. It came out of nowhere, like taking a hike and all of a sudden coming eye to eye with a wolf.

Her glare wasn’t threatening or daring or riled up like he expected.

The look made him falter. Without even making the conscious decision, he took a step back.

Blazing amber eyes bore holes through his skull, making it feel like there was something crawling around inside him, wriggling and itching and boiling his veins.

He could feel the sweat beginning to collect under his collar and it soon turned cold.

He isn’t so proud as to ignore the hauntingly firm voice in the back of his mind that told him he shouldn’t have done that — the voice even more disturbing as he could all too easily imagine it belonging to the person in front of him, without ever having heard it before.

He doesn’t get the feeling that she doesn’t think he’d actually go through with the threat, but she is far too calm for his liking.

She looked at him the way a snake looks at a mouse. Promising something beyond his capacity to decipher. All he knows for certain is that there’s a steady gleam in those fires. Like she’s seen this before.

Nobody who isn’t familiar with the ugly side of the human race is that calm and threatening in her situation.

It’s like staring into a mirror that reflects what it’s seen and there’s nothing but fire and screams. No fear, no hesitation, only the sound of deafening silence.

All his threats and all his words & wounds for all the people they’ve bested, pale in comparison to the single deadly stare of one chained woman.

It was unnerving, despite himself. He thought he’d seen everything but … staring into these unwavering eyes, like a devil in human skin, daring him to keep digging himself deeper into this hole so she can drag him down through the earth all the way to purgatory.

Before he knew it, he was leaving the room in haste. Desperate to get out of her line of sight, and her eyes bore holes into the back of his skull 

Not 3 steps down the hallway he stopped to lean against the wall in the empty hallway. His hand shaking and goosebumps heckling his arms, a cold sweat on the back of his neck.

He’ll never admit it but he feels like a lion who just lost a fight with a bear.

All of a sudden he turned back and with fast steps to the door, he flung the metal open again, hitting the wall with a loud bang and pulled his gun off his hip.

Without hesitation he pistol whipped her in the face and knocked her straight out.

He’ll have to make these people talk one way or another. The only one left is the other girl. He’ll have to try a different tactic than they did with the other two.

* * *

Eve woke up to gunfire.

It sounded like an automatic but she was so out of it she couldn’t be sure, and then the door swung open and two guys came in.

In a flash, they had unhooked one arm and didn’t give her a second to fight back as they wrenched her arm behind her back and wound the chain around her before doing the same with the other side and locked the ends together.

Fighting back was near impossible, though she still tried.

That  _ Governor _ wasn’t stupid, he didn’t give her any wiggle room. Literally.

Merle probably warned him about her beforehand. Traitorous canoe licker.

She was still out of it while they dragged her across the floor and down the hall. Her vision wonkee, and head throbbing like the inside of a war drum.

No matter how hard she tried to focus, she couldn’t hold it for more than a minute.

Every part of her aches but the most demanding being her stomach.

Her throat is bruised so badly she’s having trouble breathing but other than that and some sore ribs, the rest of her wounds are superficial.

It’s a good thing she doesn’t talk a lot, she won’t be doing any of that any time soon. She and her voice won’t be on speaking terms for a hot minute.

She saw Glenn and Maggie above her being shoved into a room before they dragged her in with them, and dropped her on the ground like a punching bag beside Maggie.

Her left eye is so swollen now that she can barely see out of it but her ears work perfectly. Enough to hear Glenn tell Maggie with a resigned firmness that made Eve’s blood burn, to just keep looking at him.

Being on the ground like this made it even harder to breathe but that won’t stop her from saving— or at least giving Glenn & Maggie a fighting chance.

If only she wasn’t wrapped in metal like a burrito and the room wasn’t spinning more than a merry-go-round.

She wanted to scream in frustration (and pain) but she won’t give them the satisfaction, nor will she let herself fall so far as to start believing that’s the only thing she can do.

There’s always a way out, there’s gotta be. She just has to find it.

Maggie’s broken voice muttered, “I love you.” before bags were shoved over both their heads.

Glenn gave Eve one last look before he was covered and she snapped.

She can’t do much but they’ve made the mistake of putting her on the ground.

She took as deep a breath, grit her teeth so hard she felt bone displace and suddenly rolled, slamming with as much force as humanly possible into the man standing next to her before she bit his ankle with all the force of her jaw.

A piercing scream rang through the air like a bombshell, vibrating the metal walls and sent hackles down even Eve’s spine.

He kicked her in the face as he plummeted to the floor like a sky diver but with all the pain she’s taken already, it didn’t slow her down in the slightest; in fact, she bit down  _ harder _ and he screeched so loud that if he claimed to have sonic voice powers, it wouldn’t be difficult to believe it.

Wild eyes filled with hair-raising panic looked at her the way you’d look at a walker trying to devour you. Rampant fear and blind terror quickly overwhelmed him as the pain of blunt human teeth tore into the flesh of his ankle, digging for the tendon like a jewel.

Before someone else could get to her, she let go and with a quick roll, her teeth chomped down on his nose, making him let out another frenzied shriek.

Her body weight crushed his arm so he couldn’t rip the gun from his side and shoot her but she was never after hurting him, it was just a bonus.

It was the easiest and most believable way to get her hand close enough to his belt and snatch the padlock key from his pocket.

She barely got her fingers around it before Merle came up behind her and ripped her off of him, slamming her into the ground.

A twisted smile peeled across his lips, looking back and forth between her good eye and bloody mouth. She stared back, amber eyes blazing like flames in the dark.

He’s enjoying this. He didn’t bother to hide it.

“Damn, Tinkerbell. Ya still got some fight left in ya. That’s good. Damn impressive sweetheart, I’ll give ya that. Killin you’d be no fun otherwise.”

She resisted the urge to snap her teeth at him and Merle lifted her like a bloody duffel bag.

“Ya know, I always knew you’d go down swingin’.” He dragged her out of the room, right behind Glenn and Maggie as they were shuffled out. Leaving the man she attacked and one other in the room trying to stop the bleeding but her mouth is swimming in the taste of iron and her stomach lurched with nausea as she realized there’s some skin and stringy flesh stuck between her left frontal incisors.

Good luck not losing your foot from that, sprinkle-sharter.

Her lip quirked but she quickly wiped it away to focus.

She’s the only one without a bag on her head, why? Who knows. Maybe Merle wants to take delight in watching the fiery light die from her intense eyes.

But really, what’s life without a little disappointment?

He barely got her out of the doorway before there was a clack and a deafening bang.

A flash of light blinded everyone in the room. Smoke swirled the space like a thick perilous swamp fog and Merle dropped her on the spot.

Eve’s shoulder hit the ground painfully, the metal digging in all around her as another pair of hands grabbed her.

She coughed and jerked, ready to bite someone again but she could barely see and they grabbed her by the  _ back  _ of the chains, almost the same way Merle had.

She flinched as gunfire erupted all around and just as her vision began to adjust again, the person pulled her to her feet, before unexpectedly and with moderate difficulty, she was thrown over their shoulder.

She struggled violently, almost making them drop her, until she whacked her wrist painfully hard on something attached to their back and froze.

A few seconds later the fog was left behind and she could see clear as day.

Relief flooded like a tidal wave over the fires of panic. There’s only one person she knows who carries a crossbow—  _ this _ crossbow  **and ** who’d even  _ think _ about carrying her like this. She should’ve known the second that smoke grenade & flash bang were tossed in there but forgive her for not thinking too clearly in her near-death moment.

The questions of how the Hell he — and whoever else came — found them will have to wait. Even just a quick glance as they were moving fast and she can tell this place is much bigger than she thought.

She struggled to move her wrist in such a way that she could unlock the padlock but that’s a hundred times more difficult when she’s being carried like a sack of potatoes, his shoulder is digging into every fresh bruise on her stomach, and the chains feel like they’re squeezing her even more.

The blood on her wrists and hands aren’t helping, but after the longest seconds of her life, she managed in less than a minute.

Once it was unlocked, she unraveled the majority of the chain from her torso, slower than normal as she can’t move very well; thank  _ Hades  _ for adrenaline.

“Quit movin’.” Daryl scolded but he felt her get her arms free (she may have accidentally elbowed him in the shoulder blade) and stopped long enough to put her down.

The chains dropped in coils at her ankles but as soon as she put her weight on her left leg, so did she.

She hit the pavement hard, knocking the wind out of herself but Daryl half-caught her so the impact wasn’t nearly as bad as it would have been.

“ _ Keep moving! This way, _ ” Rick’s urgent voice half-whispered half-yelled at them to keep moving but other than him and the obvious persons, she can’t actually tell who’s all here.

Using her arms Eve tried to push herself up, straight into motion. But truthfully Daryl did most of the work.

She did her best to keep as little pressure on her leg as she could get away with but refused to let Daryl be a crutch. They need to move fast so she ran. (Staggered, like both her feet are asleep)

It was harder and harder to breathe as she pushed on but she didn’t run out of willpower before, she isn’t about to now. And this is exactly what she’s been training for.

‘ _ Just a little more. Come on, Rider. _ ’

She kept up with the small group under the dark sky as they ran through the streets — actual clean streets, like people are still living on them — albeit a  _ tad  _ bit slower than everyone else but she was handed a gun in a hurry and covered the back with Daryl while Rick led the way.

They followed everyone into a random building and Glenn immediately collapsed to the floor, Maggie right beside him.

Eve leaned against the wall a little heavier than she meant to, swiftly and carefully looking out of one of the windows, overhearing Glenn tell Daryl, “This was Merle.”

Eve looked at Daryl and watched him as Glenn spoke. Disbelief was most prominent on his face, but she could also see something she hasn’t in a long time.

Hope.

She vaguely heard Glenn tell Rick they told them about the prison, they couldn’t hold out. Which was news to her but understandable. Glenn looks worse than she does, and she only noticed that he didn’t have a shirt — that Maggie is the one wearing it — until someone passed him a jacket to put on.

Her teeth clenched. Hand falling to her thighs but all her anger was frozen on the spot. The  _ empty _ spot.

She looked down and had a heart attack. How could she forget, they took her knives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/


	170. Chapter 170

**Eve’s POV**

“You saw him?” Rick asked, glancing at me for confirmation and I nodded. Unfortunately it’s true, this was Merle’s doing.

“Face to face.” Glenn answered, struggling to get his arm through the jacket sleeve that Maggie was helping him get on.

“He threw a walker at me. He was gonna execute us.”

Daryl looked at me in shock, his eyes just begging me to deny that even though he knows Glenn wouldn’t lie. I wish I could tell him what he wants to hear, but my eyes widened and looked at my best friend too. I didn’t know that’s what was happening when I heard the fighting from my own makeshift cell. I only heard the loudest sounds and none of them were distinguishable except Glenn’s.

Daryl stepped closer to Glenn in disbelief. “S-So my brother’s this Governor?”

“No he’s somebody else. Your brother’s like his lieutenant or something.” Maggie answered quickly.

Daryl looked at me and I nodded, but then his gaze moved slightly off from mine, to the swelling on my face.

From my eye, to my jaw, to my throat his eyes moved down, scanning me from head to toe. That’s the face he makes when he’s looking for injuries and trust me, I got plenty of those to find right now. But I also know what he’s looking for.

When his eyes met mine again, I shook my head, reassuring him. My injuries aren’t gifts from his brother.

Daryl returned his attention to Maggie, somewhat relieved that at least it isn’t  _ all _ his brother’s doing. “Does he know I’m still with you?”

“He does now.” Glenn groaned, trying to talk fast even though it hurts. “Rick, I’m sorry. We told him where the prison was. We couldn’t hold out.”

Rick sat on his heels in front of him. “Don’t. No need to apologize.”

He pat Glenn’s knee before he was crouching again and practically ran back to the window next to me. You can almost see him sweating adrenaline but honestly none of us aren’t. We’re in hostile territory, behind enemy lines, half of us injured, and no easy way out.

“They’re gonna be looking for us.” Maggie rushed urgently, her voice betraying a desperation to know if and what the plan is here. Did they have a rescue plan or was the only option to launch straight in and hope for the best? Did they have an exit strategy?

One look around the room though and I  _ know _ that even if they did have an exit planned, it’s a bust now. More likely is that they didn’t have time or the information for a very detailed plan and I can’t say I blame them. If they hadn’t acted rashly when they did, we’d be casualties by now.

Rick glanced at me, eyes asking a very familiar question and I nodded. I’m fine, they don’t gotta worry about me. My wounds are mostly superficial and the rest I can deal with whilst I’ve got adrenaline on my side. They’ll definitely worsen if I push them now, but I know my limits. I can push and hold out until we’re in the clear.

“We have to get back. Can you walk?” Rick whirled around like a bunny on steroids and went back to Glenn. “We’ve got a car a few miles out.”

Glenn sighed in pain, cradling his ribcage but nodded. “I’m good.”

“Alright.” Rick and Maggie grabbed his arms and helped hoist him to his feet.

Movement and voices outside drew my eyes back to the window and I watched more and more people with guns moving like ants through the street. Moving too carelessly and too openly to be afraid of being attacked by walkers. Do they have this whole street blocked off or something?

They had to have cleared every building on the street to have that kind of confidence in this space. Just how big is this group?

“Ey, if Merle’s around I need to see him.”

I looked back at the alarming note of desperation in Daryl’s voice and my heart clenched at the look on his face. 

Rick oozed seriousness. “Not now. We’re in hostile territory.”

He never liked Merle in the first place but he’s not so cold hearted as to not understand why Daryl wants to see his brother, even if the man’s a racist sociopath.

My vision blurred for a second and my forearm ground against the wall. If I hadn’t been standing here and caught myself on the wall, I would’ve swayed. My legs are starting to tremble, not good. I’ve been still for too long, the adrenaline’s wearing off.

On cue my empty stomach twisted painfully and I turned towards the window again, trying to keep my grunts of pain to myself. My fast shallow breaths created fog on the glass that dissipated in a few seconds.

I’ll live, but it’s never fun to go 24+ hours without eating. It almost made me scoff. Reminds me of being a kid again.

“He’s my brother. I ain’t—” Daryl started.

“Look at what he did!” Rick cut him off. “Look, we gotta— we gotta get out of here now.”

“Maybe I can talk to him, man. Work somethin’ out.”

“No no no” Rick shook his head, “You’re not thinkin’ straight.” Rick quickly glanced behind him as Glenn & Maggie came up next to me and I accidentally caught Rick’s eyes for a second and before I could stop myself, I pushed off the wall like I hadn’t been using it to stand.

His tone lowered so nobody except Daryl could hear him, but unfortunately I have sharp ears. “Look, no matter what they say, they are hurt. Glenn can barely walk, Eve’s pulling her tough face and you & I both know that means it’s more serious than she says.”  _ Excuse—  _ “How are we gonna make it out, if we get overrun by walkers and this Governor catches up to us? I  _ need _ you.”

Daryl paused, freezing and son I can see the unwavering agreement you two seem to have with that little statement Rick just made about me!  _ I am not that bad! _

“Are you with me?” Rick asked.

Daryl looked hesitant to let it go for a second, torn between loyalties, before he looked at me and a switch flipped in a heartbeat.

My eye throbbed and I couldn’t help turning just a little so only my uninjured profile was visible to him from where we’re all piled near the doors, completely forgetting about the fat bruise on my jaw on this side, or the marks that are undoubtedly on my neck, although I don’t know how serious they look yet.

“Yeah.” Daryl conceded and my stomach twisted with guilt. I don’t know why I feel guilty for getting hurt, I just do. I’m not weak, I know I’m not. But I feel like it. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like this. Since I’ve felt powerless to protect myself.

My sleeve tugged and I glanced up before moving to the other side, next to Daryl. I tried to resist the urge to bite my split lip but I can feel his eyes on my face and for once it’s making me feel worse.

I’m used to having bruises and injuries, I’ve always had things like this — all my life. For as long as I can remember, there’s hardly been a time when I went for long without  _ something _ healing. Be it scratches, bruises, sprains, broken bones, whatever. I never felt guilty about it before — on the contrary I’m quite proud that moderate injuries are nothing to me. But now I want to hide them. I don’t want him to see them— to have to see  _ me _ covered in purple and red like an oil painting.

He makes this face whenever he sees marks on me. This pained look. I don’t like it.

A hand slid over my neck and I snapped out of my thoughts and turned, immediately being stopped by a warm spot on my forehead.

Like a magic water drop, my mind immediately settled. If only for right now, but it’s all I need to erase the uncertainty of our situation from my mind. We’ve been through a lot and we’ve been in much more dire circumstances before. It’s gonna be fine.

The corner of my lip pulled up and unconsciously, my eyes closed, leaning towards him until the warmth was gone.

Daryl quickly crouched and dug into a small duffel bag on the floor that I failed to notice before, and grabbed two smoke grenades, yanking the pins out but didn’t let go of the handles so they won’t deploy yet. Also grabbing a small machine gun out and handing it to me.

“On three. Stay tight.” Rick instructed, hand on the door while Daryl handed a handgun to me and I passed it to Maggie.

Not a second after Rick finished his sentence, he counted and yanked the door open.

With a smooth underhand, Daryl tossed the smoke grenades into the street and backed up to let Rick and the others out first.

Gunfire pierced the air like a daunting drum roll and as soon as I was out the door, it was deafening. I couldn’t even hear the blood in my own ears as we ran up the street, Rick shouting orders and everyone shooting behind us until we were all piled into some deep set doorway, ducking behind the brick walls, Daryl crouched in front of me while I shot over him.

It wasn’t difficult to find the muzzle flashes in the smoke and that’s where I aimed.

I squeezed the trigger in short bursts, firing 3-4 bullets at a time and it only took me twice to hear before sharp wails cut through the gunfire and the muzzle flash I was aiming at disappeared.

“How many?” Rick called.

“I didn’t see!” Oscar called back over the sound of Daryl and I firing.

“Don’t matter there’s gonna be more of ‘em. We need to move.” Daryl called, reloading. As soon as he was finished, my clip ran out and I snatched the magazine someone was handing me, trusting whoever it was to know which clip I needed.

Locked and loaded again, I glanced at all of us, doing a quick sweep for injury. It feels like I’m looking for Health bars. Wouldn’t life be so much easier if there was such a thing. A status effect screen would be even more useful.

Everyone except Glenn looks ok, except Maggie’s breathing pretty erratically. I nudged her with my elbow and raised my eyebrows slightly as her eyes locked with mine. She nodded and I returned it with a single firm one before turning back and shooting again. Gotta keep those guys from advancing forward as much as possible if we’re gonna have any chance of moving from this spot.

“Any grenades left?” Rick called.

“Uh-huh” Daryl grunted back loudly, nodding as he dug through the bag just behind my front foot while I continued to cover us. Maggie leaned around me and shot as I reloaded again.

“You guys go ahead. I’m gonna lay down some cover fire.” Daryl passed me a rifle.

“No, we gotta stay together.” Maggie protested the second he finished.

“Too hairy. I’ll be right behind you.” Daryl shook his head.

“Ready?” Daryl warned right before he and I both stepped out and I laid down some cover fire while he tossed the last of the smoke grenades into the street, replenishing our shield of fog.

Daryl nudged me forward as soon as everyone started moving and it startled me but once I was out, there was no turning back so I had to go forward with the others into the street.

Maggie and Glenn and Oscar made a run for a school bus parked up against a high wall of metal shutters while Rick, Daryl and I covered them.

I ground my teeth as a number of my shots missed. My aim is off. Half an eye and a shaky hand isn’t a good recipe for precision shots but getting shots in the general area is good enough for now. It has to be.

I took cover behind a metal park bench, not 15 feet from Rick who crouched behind a small solar panel of some kind and made eye contact with Daryl back near the doorway.

We shared a nod before we switched. I laid down fire and gave him the opportunity to move to me and didn’t stop until he made it behind the bench.

If this is what being in the military is like, I’m glad I didn’t join up. Though it would’ve been hella useful to have the training and experience right about now. Assuming I even survived the start.

I glanced over when Rick stopped firing for too long, just in time to hear a cry from behind us and see him with his python out, gunning someone down.

My eyes flew around wildly, searching for ours and immediately caught on Maggie on the ground, crouched over Oscar, screaming for Rick.

My eyes landed on him staring at a dead body like he’s in a daze.

“Cover me!” I shouted and pushed onto my feet, shooting behind me as I ran for Rick.

I grabbed Rick’s arm and he immediately snapped back to reality, not even locking eyes with me before I shoved him towards the bus and covered him from the place Maggie was not long ago — she and Glenn must’ve made it over the wall already, that’s a relief — while Rick climbed onto the hood.

I took my turn firing, giving Daryl a chance to reload and another muzzle flash zone disappeared but the fog is starting to clear, we need to move  _ now _ .

When my clip ran out, Daryl was back up and I took the chance to take Rick’s hand and let him help me up to the top of the bus before crouching down and reloading again.

“Daryl!” Rick shouted back, letting him know it’s time to get the Hell out of there.

“Go! Get her out of here!” Daryl shouted back to Rick, firing again.

My heart stopped and I lunged forward, but Rick caught me from behind.

“ _ Let go of me!”  _ I shoved at Rick’s arm but I couldn’t stop firing until I ran out of bullets and Rick dragged me back with him.

_ “ _ ** _Daryl!_ ** ” I screamed as I was pulled over the wall.

* * *

My feet hit the ground hard and instinct is all I have to thank for avoiding another injury, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t still hurt. The shock ricocheted up my legs and rolling managed to somehow hit every single bruise on my back and torso.

All of my senses shut off as I laid eyes on Rick trying to stand up a few feet from me.

My fists curled into the dying grass, dirt scraping up under my fingernails as ice flooded through my veins.

I didn’t even notice the burning aches or the new tremble in my fist, eyes locked on Officer Friendly.

In a heartbeat I was on my feet and right as he was barely getting up, my hands slammed into his shoulder.

Rick sprawled into the dirt without knowing what hit him until he looked up.

My hand held my side, my fist shaking at my side, knuckles white as topical ointment and my chest shaking every fast breath moving in and out of my nose like a pissed off bull.

Everything inside me screamed at me to tackle him and not stop punching until his face looks like someone threw a water balloon of red paint at it.

My knee hit the ground  _ hard  _ and it felt like my kneecap split in half.

“ _ WHY DID YOU LEAVE HIM!?! _ ” I grabbed him by the collar and my fist slammed into his cheek. His head snapped to the side and my hands hit the dirt. Blinding white pain searing across my mind like my side had torn open and poured my organs onto the ground.

Someone shouted at me but I didn’t even hear it. It didn’t compute as a voice much less that of someone I know. If anything it sounded like the wind in a graveyard.

An entire half of my face stung as I blinked and something dripped off my eyelashes.

My arm shook against the ground before who I now recognize as Maggie.

* * *

**3rd Person POV**

The gunfire faded, leaving only haunting hollow ambience in its wake.

Tension thicker than tar glued Glenn and Maggie to their spots. Even their thoughts frozen with their eyes fixed on Eve’s dark figure.

Cold sweat cooling their already chilled skin. The normally hot Georgia atmosphere dropped and dropped until it felt like it was free-falling into subzero temperatures.

That person, standing in front of them doesn’t feel like Eve.

It doesn’t even feel like someone they know.

She barely looks  _ human. _

She stood up, holding her side and despite the obvious signs of pain, no one got the impression she needed help. Quite the opposite. It feels like they’ll be the ones who get hurt if they dare touch her right now.

Glenn’s hand began to tremble, not recognizing the person in front of him even though he’s known her for so long, and there’s nothing he can do about it. No matter how much he reasoned with himself that it’s Eve, the only evidence that backed it up was the simple fact that he knew it was. Not her face, not her clothes, nothing about the woman in front of them is familiar.

As soon as she rose to her feet, her eyes seared into Rick. Simultaneously blank and threatening.

Rick held his jaw but didn’t move. His teeth clenched in resignation.

He let it go, and silently accepted whatever she’s gotta do. Especially seeing as it hurt her more than him.

If it makes her feel better, she can shove and punch him all she wants but she only shoved him once and now she’s doubled over, holding her stomach, with one hand on the wall for support.

Heavy furious breaths left her until Eve finally started to calm herself down. Although no matter how calm she is on the surface, nothing will stop the contempt she’s desperately trying to shake off of Rick.

She knows it’s not fair to blame him but right now she doesn’t care. Worse, she doesn’t have a problem with not caring, and the only thing running through her mind is, ‘ _ I risked my life to protect his family before I considered them my own. Never once did I think twice about risking my own neck for them. So  _ ** _why didn’t he_ ** _ ? _ ’

Eve closed her eyes and tried to erase it from her mind. This isn’t Rick’s fault, but every time she tried to dismiss it, it just came back with a vengeance. Sour venomous words whispering in the back of her mind  _ It’s not fair. _

After a long silence, Eve finally straightened and turned back to Rick, still sitting on the ground.

_ ‘At least he knows better than to try his bullshit police officer “reasoning” to subdue my anger. Because if he did,  _ I’d shoot him right now _ .’ _

_ “We’re going back. _ ” Her voice was hollow towards him but dripping with terrifying authority that unconsciously made all of them shrink; making it more than clear that it’s not a request.

Rick wisely didn’t argue. He simply nodded and stretched his aching jaw. The throb spread all the way through his skull and even down his spine.

He doesn’t even wanna know how hard she hits when her body is just fine.

“We left Randall and a few others out here for backup. Let’s get back to them and make a plan.”

Eve held out her hand to him and Rick looked between it and her eyes for a second before hesitantly accepting the offer and she grit her teeth as she helped him to his feet.

Eve is a strange person but she’s also the most reasonable person he’s ever met. She never does anything without a reason. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t more than a little startled by this.

This is the first time he’s ever seen her outright attack someone.

Suddenly she gripped his hand so hard his fingers popped and he flinched.

Her face dark like a wraith and voice deeper than the sea, so dangerously calm with a sharp edge, it felt like a sociopath holding a hot needle right in front of his eye.  _ “Let’s get one thing straight, Rick Grimes. If he doesn’t make it out of there by sunrise,…… _ ** _You and I are going to have a problem._ ** ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30 chapters to 200.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/


	171. Chapter 171

**3rd Person POV**

“Here, here.” Rick motioned as the four of them moved past a small collection of thick trees beside what looks like more storage spaces, a few big containers scattered around this little area right before the last wall they need to get over, only this one is guarded.

“Get down.” Rick motioned quietly and everyone ducked behind the frame of a car that looks like it hasn’t moved in a long time.

Glenn coughed and grunted in pain on the ground, his fists clenching the grass while the rest of his body tried to see if it could ache itself to death.

Eve felt sympathy for him. She knows  _ exactly _ what that feels like. You never get used to it. If it happens often enough though, your pain tolerance goes up and you get a better sense for what will  _ actually _ kill you.

“Come on, Daryl.” Rick muttered under his breath, praying Daryl worked a miracle and is just catching up.

A rustle behind them had everyone’s heads turning, a spark of hope igniting in an instant and immediately fanned into flames of anger when the woman — Michonne — they brought Rick along to find these 3 scooted out from underneath the lifted storage container behind them. Blood ran down her face from an open-wound on her forehead and could barely stand even with the help of the container.

Rick aimed his gun at her in a heartbeat. “ _ Where were you? _ ”

Her eyes widened, quite startled at the angry reception.

“Turn around.  _ Turn around. _ ”

She did as told, with her hands half up and Rick took her sword. And the knife belt she was carrying, which just so happens to belong to a certain pissed off shadowy ninja behind him.

“Where did you get these?” Rick demanded as he passed them to their rightful owner, hearing the breath of relief over his shoulder as the weight disappeared from his hand and within moments she was doing up the straps and checking them for any damage.

Michonne didn’t answer and Rick lowered his weapon, looking at her in the most condescending way, and in a matching tone, “Get what you came for?”

“Where are the rest of your people?” Michonne took the opportunity to notice that there’s a few people missing. Unintentionally answering with the dejection of her tone that no, she did not manage to do what she came to. If she had, they could all sleep easy and move on without having to worry about the Governor ever again.

“They got Oscar.” Glenn answered, aiming at her like it was Michonne’s fault.

“Daryl’s missing, you didn’t see him?” Maggie jumped in, her eyes still wide with fear and high alert.

“If anything happens to him I will—”

“I brought you here to save  _ them _ .” Michonne cut Rick off, reminding him of the exact terms of their deal. She was their guide here, nothing more and she did her part.

“Thanks for the help.” Rick replied genuinely, accepting that it’s not her fault, he’s just looking for someone to blame — someone he can get to easily. But in truth there’s only one who they need to settle this score against.

“You’ll need help, to get them back to the prison or to go back in there for Daryl. Either way, you need me.” Michonne’s voice betrayed her desperation but she didn’t attempt to hide it either. She’s banged up bad, almost as bad as Glenn.

Rick looked to Eve because truthfully he’s not the one who has final say right now and he’s aware of that fact. In a way it actually takes some of the pressure off, not being the one always making the call; like sharing a burden.

Eve’s eyes scanned Michonne up and down. The dark skinned woman noticed how Rick deferred to the silent person behind him, someone who she was barely even aware was there until she looked directly at her and every single hair on her body stood up. Like spotting a rattlesnake right next to you that was not there a second ago.

Eve looked at Rick firmly and Rick nodded and turned his gaze back to Michonne. “You come with us.”

* * *

Getting past the final wall proved to be less difficult than getting in was. Having their stealth expert lead makes an almost terrifying difference.

It wracked Rick and Michonne’s nerves to hide and sneak past but Glenn and Maggie are used to letting Eve show them the way and simply copying. They’ve gotten unlucky in the past but without an outside interference her methods never fail.

In a world where noise could get you killed, the silent reign supreme.

The true test was getting back to the place in the woods where they left T-Dog and Randall guarding the vehicles.

Of the people present, Eve is once again the most qualified to lead because she’s the only one who regularly spends time in the woods, and since the winter, it’s noticeable how much her navigation has improved. She seems much more at home out here than she used to. It’s almost like being with Daryl.

Rick hasn’t been a follower very often, but with Eve leading he’s beginning to see a few things that he didn’t before.

It’s not the time to have self deprecating thoughts but seeing how easy it was for her to not only sneak them out without so much as a scratch but to do it so easily even in her state, and to remain calm and sharp(whilst carrying a fury like they’ve never seen)…… he can’t help but question whether or not he’s actually the most qualified person to lead anymore.

She actually kinda reminds him of the Sheriff he used to be deputy to. Rick learned a lot from that man and he’s the reason he’s been able to lead as well as he has all these months, but he was somewhat like Eve. Contrary to her, he liked to talk, but both of them possess this decisive decision making even when they don’t have much information. It’s in their eyes, they both see their goals with a clarity that few possess.

This ability to process the information they have and take swift precise action is something Rick has always had to work at but it comes even more naturally to Eve than it did to his Sheriff.

Eve paused, stopping everyone, and glanced back at Rick. Even in the dark he can see her eyes as a gleam of light reflected off the steel of her blade and cast a small spot of light onto her cheek, radiating just enough ambient light to track her gaze on him.

Rick pointed and lowly muttered, “The cars should be just through those trees.”

She nodded and continued on quietly. Her night vision goggles would’ve been nice right about now. Maybe she should just make or find a new little pouch to add to her person so she can just carry them at all times and not continue to bump into situations like this. It seems that every time it would be useful to have them, she doesn’t. It’s absurd and annoying, and getting old. What’s the point of having this equipment if she can’t find ways to make it more usable?

Coming up onto the road, they only missed the cars by like 50 feet. It’s hard to see in the dark like this, even with the aid of a near full moon’s light tonight but two dark familiar figures stood beside the cars, keeping watch.

Eve wasn’t trying to stay quiet anymore but she still walked up right behind one of them and he turned, only to get the fright of his life.

T-Dog nearly shot her in the face if the gun in his hand hadn’t disappeared right in front of him and somehow reappeared in hers.

Eve herself looked surprised for a second at how fast she grabbed it out of his hand.

She scared the living Hell out of him and straight up just snatched the pistol out of his hand before he could blink.

“Have I ever told you how glad I am to have you on our side? But what the Hell happened to your face?”

Eve spun the gun around and placed it back in T’s hand before walking past him.

It didn’t take long to explain everything that’s gone down. Maggie and Rick did most of the talking while T-Dog got out the bag of medical stuff he’d had the foresight to bring.

Eve popped a few painkillers and made short work of the little bit of food they had in the cars while T-Dog treated her, insisting on a few bandages and at least dealing with the inflammation on her face as best they can so she can see a little better.

Ten minutes later they were locked, loaded, and headed out. Leaving Glenn and Michonne with T-Dog, and taking Randall and the biggest guns they brought back to Woodbury with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/


	172. Chapter 172

Eve quietly and swiftly got into position with the others.

Her stomach twisted, hearing sick minded strangers of this god forsaken town cheer and shout while Daryl and Merle fought each other inside a circle of walkers.

Eve set her gun up and peered through the scope at the back of Merle’s head and her eyebrows lifted in surprise watching Merle pull Daryl onto his feet.

In a flash they were back to back, facing the walkers instead of each other.

They didn’t have to last long though, Maggie and Eve’s guns clicked and almost simultaneously shots rang out like thunder and two walkers dropped dead where they stood and startled screams split the air.

Rick threw the last of their smoke grenades, while they aimed for the electric lights and as soon as the grenades sparked panic ensued.

As soon as the lights started going out, the crowd scattered in every direction, like bugs from poison.

Eve inwardly smiled and grabbed the flashlight from her hip. The more chaos there is, the better this’ll work.

The flashlight clicked and shone brightly into the fog, casting a single point of light into the circle and just as planned, the panicked confused people of Woodbury ran for it in a blind stampede.

Strangers flooded towards them and ran past like a herd of deer, streaming out of their makeshift auditorium.

As soon as Eve sighted Daryl near the middle of the fog, she pressed her teeth to her lips and whistled their personal calls, the one that alerts him that it’s her.

Without even thinking, Daryl ran. He didn’t make it five steps before he heard the telltale sound of his crossbow and saw the man holding it as one of the walkers from the circle dropped in front of him.

Daryl grabbed it right out of his hands without slowing as both Dixon’s ran right around him like a stationary pole.

Merle followed Daryl naturally as his younger brother shouted, “Let’s go!”

“Daryl.” Rick greeted and simultaneously let the team know that they’ve got what they came for.

“Let’s go. Go.” Daryl ran right past them, right into step with Eve as she led their escape.

The group ran with the fleeing crowd, disguising themselves among the panic and nobody paid so much as a smidge of attention as they broke off from the main stream and headed straight for the area they escaped from before.

“They’re all at the arena. This way.” Merle suddenly took the lead and went straight for the makeshift metal-shutter wall.

“You’re not going anywhere with us.” Rick seethed over his shoulder, sparing only a glance at the distasteful man as he monitored the deserted road, in case the people of Woodbury catch up with them.

“You really wanna do this  _ now _ ?” Merle snapped, and unfortunately Eve has the misfortune of having to agree. This is not the time for this.

Without hesitation Merle bashed the wall open, as if knowing the precise spot where it was weakest and would give out with only two direct hits from that metal arm of his.

Merle forced the wall open through a feat of pure strength and stumbled through to the outside.

“Rick, come on. We’ve gotta go.” Daryl tapped his back the second the panel was open and grabbed Eve’s arm, making her go through first.

Rick glanced over his shoulder again and made eye contact with Maggie. “Go”

Maggie grabbed Randall and stuffed him through next, Rick right behind them.

As soon as Eve got through she almost stumbled straight into Merle’s back but at the last second she saved herself like there was a force-field around the older Dixon preventing contact.

It didn’t matter much though because her knife flew up in a heartbeat as she spun to the side, a wall of rotting flesh snapping it’s teeth at her.

A putrid smell wafted off of it in waves and could’ve made anyone vomit on the spot as she buried her knife in its forehead and plumes of stagnant blood, yellow puss and decaying brain matter spilled from the crevice.

Eve made a sharp intake as Merle’s back hit hers and nearly knocked both of them over, but despite being unused to having someone right behind him at his back, Merle adjusted quickly and used the woman’s quick strong stance to push his own battle back and threw it to the ground before jumping on it and bashing it’s head into cranberry puree on the asphalt street.

Eve stumbled forward, her stance not quite as strong as it should have been with the support being sprung on her without warning but Daryl was out not a second later and took care of the one madly shambling out of the darkness of the sidewalks for them. That’s the fastest he’s ever seen one move but it’s rare to see walkers without leg injuries like this one.

Daryl took immediate notice of Eve hunching over as she caught her breath and took her elbow out of habit.

She nodded without him having to ask if she’s alright and straightened up, ignoring Merle’s angry shout of, “A little help would be nice.”

The walker he pinned was dead already but from every direction there were sparse walkers making their way towards them; undoubtedly drawn by the commotion they’d caused inside.

In the heat of adrenaline, all bitter feelings were forgotten and as soon as he called for aid, everyone aimed and fired at their chosen targets, bulls-eyes all around like a well oiled machine or perhaps a better fit would be an experienced fire squad.

They leveled the incoming threat in less than 15 seconds and Merle was on his feet again, barking yet another order, “We ain’t got time for this.”

However this time, it took Daryl moving and saying, “Let’s go.” for the rest (aside from Eve) to follow.

The rare occasion when Eve was not covering their backs went unnoticed except by the woman herself. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and she habitually kept glancing behind them but she didn’t leave Daryl’s side, stuck like glue as they moved.

The order in which they ran spread out a bit and reordered itself as the group moved from street to forest and fled into the woods but as Rick took the front, the back was taken up by Daryl & Eve again, only this time they had another.

Merle is the definition of white trash but even he knew to stay back. His brother is the only one here who likely won’t attack him, and Rider shouldn’t as long as Daryl’s next to him, but that didn’t keep him from subtly keeping his eyes on her in case she’s changed in the time they’ve been apart.

She’s always been a tricky one and even now she wouldn’t let him get behind her, no matter how subtle he was or much attention she was paying, if he started getting anywhere near her, she automatically adjusted so she’d remain in the back. Just like always.

He’s seen a lot of people change since the turn, lose themselves, become something else, but he never would’a bet that it’s more alarming when someone  _ hasn’t  _ changed.

Though what has changed is the distance between his baby brother and Rider.

Merle kept eyeing the two of them, there’s somethin’ about the two of ‘em that’s changed and he can’t quite put his finger on it. Not just them but his baby brother, there’s somethin’ different and he can’t quite pinpoint what it is other than he just… there's not as much tension in his shoulders as there used to be.

The dark was rapidly becoming light as the sun began to rise and dye the black sky a dim light blue and they could finally see where their feet were landing instead of tripping every few steps.

Randall slowed down after they could finally see each other’s faces and fell into step next to Eve. “You ok?”

Eve nodded, patting him on the shoulder. She’s grateful for the checkup but her entire face is numb or in pain all the way down to her bones so she’s really not up for a chat. Not even a one-sided one.

Randall nodded, thankfully satisfied with her answer. He really did just want to make sure she’s ok. She’s been a little sluggish and turning her head more than usual because she can only really see out of one eye.

She looks like she tried to fight a bear for a fish and won by a hair’s width.

Randall followed her line of sight though as she kept glancing in one direction and followed it straight to the back of this stranger — who is apparently Daryl’s  _ brother _ . He didn’t even know Daryl had a brother. He can’t recall it ever being mentioned but it’s possible that he also just could’ve forgotten.

He’s not an idiot though, he’s noticed the tension in the group and who it’s being caused by.

Maggie seems to be the only one (aside from Daryl) who doesn’t have some sort of deep animosity or wariness towards him. It makes him uncomfortable. It reminds him of how they looked at him back at the farm. His choice to move back near Eve was partially unconscious but mostly it’s just that his leg is tripping him up a little and well…...back here is the only place he doesn’t feel like the crushing animosity in the atmosphere is stabbing him from all sides.

After Randall and Merle were far enough ahead, in front of the two of them, Eve tapped Daryl and as soon as he turned, he flinched.

The sudden embrace startled him but quickly enough his palm rested on the cool leather over her back.

Her forehead hit his shoulder with a soft thump and Daryl knew what she meant.

“Don’t feel so good, does it, Sunshine? Now ya know, so no more runnin’ off.”

Eve was tempted to bite his arm but she’ll let it slide. It may have been a bit of a mean comment but she kinda deserved it after all the times she’s put him through this.

Circumstance can’t be helped, she doesn’t really have the room to be angry anyway, and even if she was mad she’d be angry at the universe for creating the situation, not Daryl who was forced into it.

Eve finally pulled away and not so softly punched him in the shoulder and it was Daryl’s turn to let it slide, while simultaneously suppressing a little smile.

The look she gave him was stern, pissed off, and even threatening.  _ Don’t do that again. _

Finally getting a proper look at her face though, his hand was hovering by her cheek before he knew it.

She looks like Hell.

Her eye swollen up to the size of a balloon, a split lip, bruises all over and that’s just the visible injuries.

God what is he gonna do with her? It doesn’t sit well with him that he’s starting to get used to her state of ‘always injured’ but given her history, it makes him wonder if she’s always been like this — like when she was a kid and stuff — or if it’s just an occupational hazard these days.

No matter what, she’s always got more bruises and scrapes than anybody else, like she’s taking them for everyone else. It’s not right.

They put her in danger way too often and he’s no longer ok with it.

Eve suddenly turned her head and Daryl started again. She flashed him a cheeky grin and quickly swiped her finger over the red stain on his cheek, making a getaway before Daryl could process the fact she just stole a kiss from his palm and caught up with the others.

Daryl could feel the flame crawling up his neck all the way to his ears but he refused to be the only one who suffers it, so he half-crouched and snuck up on her.

That’s right, you heard him. Eve’s not the only one who’s been picking up tricks from their partnership.

Eve turned her head and almost had a heart attack — her heart flat-lining for a solid 3 seconds as Daryl’s lips departed from her temple; the sole uninjured place on her head.

Nobody noticed what transpired behind them or that the two had lagged a bit until the exchange was over and all that was left was Daryl’s hand in hers, both of their ears red and silent thankfulness that it’s dark.

Eve’s lip stung a little from kissing his hand but it was a sweet sting. Like the last remnant from the retreating wave of separation anxiety.

However, the fright from how much she relies on this presence next to her is all but gone. It used to scare the bats out of her but now she’s just glad. When did that happen?

Oh well. Doesn’t matter.

Eve brushed her thumb over Daryl’s interlock hand and he squeezed in turn. Who knew just holding hands could have such a calming effect.

Eventually though, they had to let go. They’re not out of the woods yet. Literally.

It didn’t take the group long to reach the cars again and this time they were right on target, having been able to see for the final few minutes and as soon as they were close, Rick called out, alerting their return to the 3 waiting.

“Rick.” Glenn stood up, spotting the figures of movement under the dark canopy of trees immediately. T-Dog and Michonne 

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust as the group got close enough to relax, but the relief didn’t last long.

As soon as Glenn spotted Merle, and Merle spotted T-Dog, all Hell broke loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/


	173. Chapter 173

**3rd Person POV**

“Now we got a problem here. I need you to back up.” Rick outstretched his hand to stop the 3 coming towards them but it was too late. Glenn, Michonne, and T-Dog had already seen the extra person they’ve brought back with them.

The ‘shing’ of a sword being removed from its scabbard accompanied the cock of a gun.

“What the Hell is he doing here!?”

Rick and Daryl immediately jumped in front of Glenn and Michonne, body blocking the rest of the group behind them, Eve grabbed Randall’s elbow and surprisingly pulled him off to the side and motioned for him to stay there before moving back in front of Merle, standing sideways so he’s always within her line of sight.

T-Dog made eye contact with Eve, silently asking for an explanation and Eve shook her head, even if they told them the truth of what happened, it wouldn’t change the past or suddenly absolve Merle of the things he’s done since the moment they met again.

In other words, it’d be useless.

There was a lot of shouting that Eve could barely keep track of before Rick was pointing his revolver at Michonne’s furious face, the tip of her sword almost touching his chest as they both shouted at each other at the same time, “Put it down!” “He tried to kill me!”

Merle had his hands up, his back against a tree, but his smile looked like he was enjoying this as everyone yelled at each other back and forth.

T-Dog, Randall, and Eve were the only observers but T-Dog looked like someone being sent to the gallows, like the time of reckoning has come.

Eve hasn’t forgotten that it was T-Dog who dropped the handcuff key on the roof where they left Merle and he’s had a heavy conscience over it ever since but he’d accepted his mistake a long time ago. Now that Merle’s standing right here in front of him, alive and breathing and carrying the punishment of T-Dog’s blunder…... He has to face the music.

In a world of unimaginable nightmares, he really shouldn’t have been surprised that the worst one would also come true. The man you left to die, coming back.

“He helped us get out of there.” Daryl reasoned against Glenn, catching Eve’s ear.

“Yeah right after he beat the shit outta you.” Rick spat, still holding off Michonne.

“Hey, we both took our licks, man.” Merle unhelpfully interjected with that ever carefree attitude but his eyes were venomous and fixed on T-Dog.

Unfortunately Rider stood between him and the man responsible for him losing his hand and as much as he wants revenge, he’s not suicidal enough to try to go through her to get to him just yet.

Eve was aware this would happen, that’s why she placed herself precisely where she is.

She was banking on Merle being unwilling to challenge her again after how it ended last time, all those seasons ago but it won’t last long. Sooner or later he’ll damn the consequences and when that happens, she has to be ready for it.

She’s not in the best condition right now, but she’s also a lot stronger than she used to be and fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on a person’s point of view), she has a lot more experience with fighting while injured. After a while, it turns a tough cookie so hard you can’t even bite it without breaking teeth anymore, much less chew.

“Jackass” Daryl called so casually it sounded like he was simply saying his name.

“Hey, shut up” Merle bit back like a true brother. Only to have Rick whip his head around without taking his gun off Michonne and yell in his face, “Enough!”

Merle was startled enough to stutter back but he barely got out 3 words before Maggie shouted, “Put that down!” at Michonne, who had taken the opportunity to try to move around Rick.

The shouting came to an abrupt halt as Daryl got fed up and finally shouted at Glenn, “Get that thing outta my face!”

Followed by Merle’s genuinely amused laugh.

The heated atmosphere wasn’t dissuaded in the slightest by the sound and only left filled heavy breaths and heated gazes being thrown around while Merle amused himself with snide comments against his brother.

“Man, look like you’ve gone native, brother.”

Daryl turned around, finally having the opportunity to properly talk to his brother since they reunited. If only his first words to him didn’t have to be, “No more than you, hangin’ out with that _ psycho _ back there!”

“Oh, yeah, man. He is a charmer, I got to tell you that.” Merle obviously held no love for the man but he’s the sort of person holds contempt for everything like a kid holds candy.

“Been puttin’ the wood to your girlfriend Andrea big time, baby.” Merle’s vulgar words were followed by an even more vulgar gesture with his tongue that made Eve tempted to shoot him and then dig her own eyes out with a sharpened spoon so she would never be subjected to such a stomach rolling sight again.

“What? Andrea’s in Woodbury?” Glenn quickly distracted from Merle and all eyes fell on Daryl after both Rick and Eve also looked confused.

“Right next to the Governor.” Daryl answered, a hint of disbelief and even some trace of lost hope in their companion that they’ve long thought they’d never see or hear from ever again.

Michonne once again tried to take advantage of the atmosphere simmering down but she didn’t get two steps before Rick yelled at her again, this time fresh out of patience. “I told you to drop that!”

Merle leaned his head back against the tree, smiling like the proud man he is, taking a sick satisfaction in eroding relations with just a few flicks of the tongue.

However when he too sought to see an opportunity, he froze, meeting a stone-faced fiery gaze that saw straight through his bullshit. As always.

Merle turned his eyes back away from Rider’s casually, like he hadn’t been intending to do anything at all but this thorn in his side won’t be moving any time soon and he can feel her burning eyes watching his every move.

Rider’s the only one here who doesn’t give two shits what comes out of your mouth, that’s why she’s always been capable of stopping him and anyone else, because she watches movement, not how your gums flap. Annoying pest.

“You know Andrea?” Rick’s tone demanded an answer but Michonne didn’t, only glanced at Rick before her eyes moved back to Merle.

Rick stepped closer, lowering his voice but it was not soft by any means. “Hey, do you know, Andrea?”

“Yep, she does.” Merle butted in again. “Her and blonde spent all winter cuddling up in the forest. Mm-mmm-mmm. Yeah. My Nubian queen here had two pet walkers.”

Eve grit her teeth at the racist remark, her fingers tapping on the hilt of her knife. Mulling over whether or not Daryl would forgive her for cutting off his brother’s tongue. The world would be a more pleasant place.

However everyone else seemed to fixate on the second half of his sentence. Rick looked over his shoulder.

“No arms, cut off the jaws, kept them in chains. Kind of ironic now that I think about it.” Merle barely finished his sentence before even Daryl had had enough.

Daryl whipped around and scolded without hesitation. “Shut up, bro.”

Merle chuckled lowly and like he’d done nothing wrong, continued, “Hey, man, we snagged ‘em out of the woods. Andrea was close to dyin.”

“Is that why she’s with him?” Maggie asked but she had her eyes on Michonne, like she was asking her. Frankly Michonne is more trustworthy but Merle isn’t a good liar. As hateful a person he is, he isn’t one to lie when the truth would hurt more.

“Yeah.” Merle answered in her stead again. “Snug as two little bugs. So what you gonna do now, Sheriff, huh?”

Everyone turned their attention back to Merle, somewhat confused but listening with guarded ears.

“Surrounded by a bunch of liars, thugs, and cowards.”

“Shut up!” Rick barely let the sentence finish before he’d had it with this prick.

“Oh man, look at this. Pathetic!” Merle chuckled again but even he was over it at this point.

“All these guns and no bullets in them.”

Daryl slowly turned to face his brother before yelling in his face again, “Shut up!”

Merle stepped away from the tree, losing his temper, “Shut up yourself! Bunch of pussies you roll—”

Merle dropped to the ground, Rick standing over him with the but of his revolver in hand, glaring down at the collapsed unconscious man.

Rick looked at Daryl but he didn’t have a single bit of complaint on his face. He knows his brother. It’s best if he can’t open his mouth.

As Rick muttered “Asshole.” loud enough for everyone to hear, Daryl turned to find Eve, she was standing as quiet and alert as ever.

The pack of them moved to the street, leaving Randall, who is the only third party in this, to watch over Merle laying face down on the forest floor.

Michonne was “banished” to stand beside the cars within their line of sight while the rest of them moved farther away to start the discussion that had to happen.

Every last one of them absolutely dreading the conversation to come, because it isn’t gonna go well.

Five minutes in and things were already breaking down.

“It isn’t gonna work.” Rick shook his head, resolute in his doubt.

“It’s gotta.” Daryl reasoned, Eve standing by his side quietly.

She listened to the conversation and kept her eyes moving around to keep watch and to check up on Randall but so far she’s had nothing to say, like the old days.

“It’ll stir things up.” Rick countered.

“Look, the Governor is probably on the way to the prison right now. Merle knows how he thinks, and we could use the muscle.” Daryl argued, making an extremely valid point, one that Eve was actually keeping in mind herself.

“I’m not having him at the prison.” Maggie argued back softly but firm.

“Do you really want him sleeping in the same cell block as Carol or Beth?” Glenn’s voice was quiet but his tone was lashing.

“He ain’t a rapist.” Daryl countered, slightly confused as to why Glenn would even think that. Merle’s a douche but there are lines even he hasn’t crossed.

“Well his buddy is.” Glenn spat back without much thought, and Eve’s eyebrows jumped to her hairline.

Say what.

Her eyes moved to Maggie beside her who shifted uncomfortably and her face looked like she was about to both cry and slap her boyfriend. Like he’d just spilled a secret they’d agreed not to talk about.

Eve gently touched her elbow and Maggie jumped, looking at her.

She muttered, “I’m fine.” under her breath and Eve didn’t push it. It was an obvious lie but if she’s not ready to touch on the subject, no one has any right to make her.

“They ain’t buddies no more. Not after last night.” Daryl argued again,

This entire time he’s been calm and cool, reasonable. Not raising his voice, making valid points for bringing Merle back to the prison with them but it’s falling on the ears of people who have been directly battered and scorned by the man in question, and Merle is literally the last person on the planet that any of them wanted to be sharing a sleeping space with.

They’re all too emotionally involved to even consider weighing the benefits to the cons when it concerns Merle Dixon.

Eve finally sighed, deciding to speak up and help her partner.

“There’s more than one cell-block.”

Make no mistake, she holds no positive feelings for Merle and she isn’t doing this because he’s Daryl’s brother. She’s checked herself for bias but no matter how she thinks about it, they could genuinely use him for this upcoming fight; even if there are a lot of unpleasant cons to having Merle around.

Daryl being happy is a pleasant bonus, and he gave her a grateful glance for having his back.

He’s more aware than anyone that his brother causes friction wherever he goes, he’s always been like that but he’s his brother, and against all odds they’ve met again.

“There’s no way Merle’s gonna live there without puttin’ everyone at each other’s throats, even in another cell block.” Rick refuted the point and Eve regarded him with disapproving eyes. That was a reasonable point but he completely ruined it with that _ unreasonable _ tack on at the end.

How on Earth would Merle manage to antagonize anyone from a different cell-block, hm?

Daryl finally reached his boiling point and spoke in indignation, “So you’re gonna cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?”

“She’s not coming back.” Rick stated but Maggie immediately refuted, “She’s not in a state to be on her own.”

“She did bring you guys to us.” Glenn backed her up.

“And then ditched us.” Rick reminded, still not letting that go. They don’t even know where that woman went while they were saving the three of them.

“At least let my dad stitch her up.” Maggie made a counter offer.

T-Dog sighed softly, shifting his gaze over to the forest where Randall is watching over the man in question. He still feels guilty about his mistake but he tried not to let his judgement be clouded as he finally joined the conversation. “It’s risky either way. Whether we bring both of them back, one of them, or neither.”

“She’s too unpredictable.” Rick adamantly refused.

“That’s right. We don’t know who she is.” Daryl backed him up as he stared at the woman in question, watching them from afar.

Eve glanced and studied her figure with indifference. She has no opinion on this woman, she has no idea who she is and hasn’t had any personal interaction aside from getting her knives back.

She’s grateful for the knives but as far as she knows their business with this stranger should be over.

She got what she wanted, they got what they wanted, what’s she still hanging around for?

Eve doesn’t have enough information to say whether or not they should risk bringing her back.

In her eyes, Michonne and Merle pose exactly the same threat level right now. Except Merle is more likely to behave in predictable ways and they _ know _ what he wants. He’s here for Daryl but what is she here for?

Eve doesn’t trust either of them but at least she knows she can deal with Merle.

This woman holds her sword the way Eve holds her knives; With skill and experience. That makes her dangerous, bottom line.

“But Merle, Merle’s blood.” Daryl continued his argument.

“No, Merle is your blood.” Glenn stressed ‘your’. “My blood, my family is standing right here, and waiting for us back at the prison.”

“And you’re part of that family.” Rick stressed to Daryl. “But he’s not. He’s not.”

Even if Merle was blood he’s not the kind of person you’d want or choose to be related to. Not even Eve can argue there. Except with, “Neither is she.”

Movement caught the corner of Eve’s eye and she watched Merle slowly getting up, using the tree as leverage.

Randall made eye contact with her, silently asking what to do and she jerked her head, motioning for him to come over here. She doesn’t want him or anyone else near Merle if at all possible. Especially not since Randall would be a prime target for the man.

Randall made his way back towards them, leaving Merle by himself but he paid no mind to the kid, and while Eve was distracted, she almost missed what Daryl said.

“Man, y’all don’t know.” Daryl looked at the people in front of him. “Fine. We’ll fend for ourselves.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything! If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/
> 
> A big thanks to all of my supporters!  
Xhak  
Jessica Taylor  
Tessasgoat


	174. Chapter 174

Eve’s head snapped towards him like someone poked her with a hot iron sword.

“That’s not what I was saying.” Glenn quickly jumped.

“No him, no me.” Daryl said it how it is.

“Daryl, you don’t have to do that.” Maggie tried to “reason” but truthfully she didn’t understand. She doesn’t understand why Daryl would be willing to go this far for someone like Merle, even if they are biologically siblings.

These guys don’t get it. Merle’s his  _ brother _ , they grew up under the same roof and have been together most of their lives. It doesn’t matter that he’s an asshole.

Daryl had a hard enough time accepting it when he was left on the roof and if it hadn’t been for Eve & him becoming partners and her always sticking with him, he would’ve gone off a long time ago. When they lost Sophia, he almost did — he actually had a brief falling out with even her.

He can’t even fathom how they don’t understand this — Maggie has siblings! Glenn had siblings, Rick had Shane & Lori — the only person who gets it and is siding with him is Eve, and she’s  _ never _ even had a family before!

She’s not blood-related to a single one of them and yet she’s proven time and again that she’s willing to go to any lengths she has to to protect them.

“It was always Merle and I before this.” Daryl made up his mind.

“Don't.” Maggie pleaded but it sounded more like a command than she meant.

“You serious?” Glenn stared at him in disbelief. “You’re just gonna leave like that?”

“You’d do the same thing.” Daryl retorted.

Daryl looked at Eve and her entire body screamed ‘alarm’ but he was distracted by Glenn again.

“What do you want us to tell Carol?” Glenn meant for it to make Daryl reconsider, and he was right in thinking that Daryl hadn’t thought that far ahead but he didn’t have to think for long.

“Carol, she’ll understand.”

Glenn was flabbergasted.

After a beat of silence, Daryl pushed past Maggie. “Say goodbye to your pop for me.”

“Daryl, are you serious? Daryl!” Glenn called after him but Eve waved them off, right on Daryl’s heels.

“Hey, hey.” Rick caught up with them, even walking backwards so he could keep up and still see Daryl’s face. “There’s gotta be another way.”

Of course there is! Everyone could stop being a picky stubborn whining brat and smell the f***ing death in the air. We  _ need _ as many hands as we can get, regardless if he’s only got one to bring to the table. If it’s a choice between putting up with Merle and losing Daryl  _ it shouldn’t be a hard choice! _

Daryl stopped, staring Rick in the eyes, regretful but unwavering. “Don’t ask me to leave him. I already did that once.”

Daryl kept walking and Rick caught up again but didn’t start speaking again until they reached the car.

“We started something last night. You realize that, huh?”

Yeah thanks Captain Obvious, I’m sure we weren’t all painfully aware of that before you said it.

Daryl opened the trunk. “No him, no me. That’s all I can say.”

Gods—  _ Rick _ , you  _ know _ how loyal Daryl is and you’re still pushing to leave his brother behind  _ again?! _

“Take care of yourself. Take care of little asskicker. Carl.” Daryl packed up his backpack in the trunk and put it over his shoulder. “That’s one tough kid.”

Rick went to say something and Eve glared at him. A warning to back off.

Rick ground his teeth but backed off and moved away, back towards the others. If anyone has a chance of talking Daryl out of this, it’s Eve.

He got back to them just in time for T-Dog to say, “If the two of them leave, we’re gonna be at a major disadvantage when this Governor rolls up on our doorstep.”

Rick clenched his fist but it seems Glenn and Maggie only just realized, with eyes wide, that if Daryl goes, Eve will go with him.

“But she made a promise to Carl — Eve  _ always  _ keeps her promises. She wouldn’t just leave like that.” Glenn looked at Maggie, desperate for confirmation, unable to accept it but his gaze fell on T-Dog instead, a look of sympathy on the man’s face as he met Glenn’s eyes.

“If it were you and Maggie was the one leavin’ would you be able to stay, even if you wanted to?”

Several meters away, Eve finally had a chance to talk to Daryl alone since he made this crazy spur of the moment decision, and it’s blatantly obvious that he is not really thinking about this, he’s making a panicked decision because he doesn’t want to lose his brother again.

“Are we really leaving?  _ Now? _ Like  _ this? _ ”

Daryl paused and his eyes wandered over Eve’s face. Her beautiful, swollen, bashed up face and couldn’t stand to look at her when he said this.

“You need Hershel to look at you.”

“I’ve had worse — don’t change the subject.” Eve didn’t even bother to veil her intolerance. Her patience is gone, she’s in no mood to beat about the bush.

“I’m not.” Daryl’s eyes drifted to the ground, his lips pressed into a foreboding thin line.

Eve’s shoulders fell as she stared at him. Not another word was needed. She’s not stupid, she could sense what he was implying. She was just hoping he wasn’t.

“ _ Hell  _ no.”

“Eve,” Daryl tried but she cut him off.

“What part of  _ no  _ don’t you understand? Haven’t we been separated enough? Look what happens to the both of us the minute we leave each other’s sides!”

“So don’t even think about expecting me to go back without you. We’re staying together. End of stor—”

Eve suddenly stopped in the middle of her sentence.

Daryl’s posture perked up. He knows that face, that’s her epiphany face.

“What are you thinkin’?”

_ ‘....Alright, fine. If the universe is determined to separate the two of us. Maybe we need to  _ not  _ stick together, to stay together. _ ’ Eve’s mind churned over the idea that struck her like lightning. A giddy, evil genius sort of feeling bubbling up in her gut. Like the cat who schemed to catch the canary.

The problem right now is that they need Merle but nobody wants him to live with them…So… maybe he doesn’t need to live  _ with  _ them.

It’s a risky play but… she can’t think of another option and she doesn’t have the time to.

‘ _ I’d eat a raw squirrel right here and now if someone could give me a favorable choice, but if this is all I’ve got.... _ ’

Eve chewed on her thumbnail, mulling over the idea in her head. Sorting through details and risks like someone in charge of bank loans, until she finally reached her conclusion and dropped her dirty nail from her lips.

“I’ve got an idea.” Eve stepped closer to Daryl, the trunk providing some privacy for them to lower their voices and carefully explain the evolving plan in her head.

Daryl leaned on his arm against the back, tilting his head down to listen closely.

“I’ll go back to the prison and see Hershel on one condition. While we’re dealing with this homicidal bureaucrat from Hell, you stay somewhere nearby with Merle. Stay in the area around the prison.”

The tight knot in Daryl’s gut eased a little, starting to see a little of where she’s going with this. Her tone gives him hope that this plan is a bit more complicated than just living separately, but even just living separately from the rest of the group is a much better idea than straight up leaving.

“Every day at sunrise we can meet at the train tracks on the ridge by the prison, at that spot where we first saw the prison.”

“I remember it.” Daryl nodded, the beginnings of a smile even starting to bubble up now.

“I’ll try to come up with something better and reason with the rest of the group while we see if we can’t do something about this warmongering would-be Governor.”

This time he actually did smile.

Merle could learn a thing or two about insults from her.

His amusement went unnoticed by Eve as she continued,

“If this doesn’t work…….”

Daryl pulled her head towards him and leaned forward, placing his lips against her head as if kissing her mind. This is why he loves her. Such a simple, obvious 3rd option and not one of them saw it but her.

He still however, needs to stop her from getting ahead of herself. So he pulled back and stopped this brain of hers in its tracks. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Eve nodded, conceding but turned towards him with a more serious face again.

“I mean sunrise  _ every  _ day, Snowflake. I won’t be there to help you if you fall in a hole.”

Daryl got halfway through a nod before the words actually registered to him and he did a double take at her.

“What did you just say,  _ Twinkle Toes? _ ”

Daryl’s jaw dropped as a savage smirk slid across her lips, amber eyes shining with mirth.

“Oh don’t look so indignant. Snowflake is a lot better than  _ ‘Swamp Monster’ _ dont'cha think?”

Daryl’s eyes widened and Eve smiled, reading his mind ‘But I’ve never called you that out loud’.

“I’m not the only one who talks in their sleep sometimes, Legolas.”

‘_Take that._ _I’ve been holding onto this one for a long time, son. You thought I forgot about that little ‘Die in a hole’ comment back at the farm, didn’t you? Paybacks a b**ch.’_

** _(See chp-36 for the event she’s referring to)_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything! If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/
> 
> A big thanks to all of my supporters!  
Xhak  
Jessica Taylor  
Tessasgoat


	175. Chapter 175

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/
> 
> Among many features it'll be complete with a dark mode, font size adjusting, a phone compatible design so that reading on your devices will still be comfortable, a full screen mode so you can hide the header, an easy accessible donate button so I can keep writing for you, even a white noise option with different mood setting and reading-friendly sounds for each story!

She hates this.

They never had this much trouble sticking together before this place.

Eve’s eyes roamed around the trees, as if just staring could set them on fire and burn down the whole forest in an instant, leaving nothing but a rain of ash.

The exact same way she used to look at the world around her. The city, the people in the streets.

The corner of her mouth lifted, twisted with bitterness.

It’s been a long time since she hated a place so much but couldn’t leave.

After every unbelievable thing that’s happened in her lifetime, she never expected to be on the front lines of a domestic war with their neighboring “tribe”.

Merle is Daryl’s brother, she gets that. She’s never had a sibling but she can’t imagine it’s much different than how she feels about Glenn, but strangely she would give anything to just cut Merle’s tongue out and drag everyone home by the ear, and burn this Woodbury place to the ground. Problem solved.

“Hey.” Daryl called to her, and watched her eyes come down from the trees.

The weird feeling in his stomach didn’t dissipate. His eyebrows knit as he stared at the unfamiliar emotion in her eyes.

He isn’t good at describing this stuff but the best he can manage is, it looks……. like she’s gonna snap.

She got close to this once before, at the farm but it’s different now. That looked like frustration but this… the wheels in her brain are turning.

That makes him uneasy.

Eve saw the small shifting emotions on his face and sighed. “When this is over, I want a vacation.”

Daryl chuckled without meaning to but quickly recovered and nodded, chewing his lips to diminish the smile on his face. “Deal.”

“I don’t wanna do things anymore.” Eve almost whined. “I just wanna sit.”

Daryl brushed his thumb over the one spot on her jaw that isn’t hurt. The smile on his face migrating to his eyes, “Deal.”

Eve stepped forward and their arms automatically wrapped around one another.

The warmth is comforting. Comforting enough to make her speak instead of suffer in silence.

“I’m worried.”

Daryl opened his mouth to respond but gave it a second thought and waited for her to continue.

“That this is never gonna end. I’d rather go back to moving around. Find somewhere else where the neighbors are nicer, or better yet, no neighbors at all.”

The corner of his lip quirked up, amused at the idea that he’s even having this conversation. “Never pegged you for the domestic type.”

“I’d take a domestic life over a stuffy concrete box with trigger-happy locals any day.”

Daryl nodded, humming in agreement. He’s not overly fond of this place either.

“Are you gonna be ok?” The thought barely crossed his mind before he found himself asking.

Eve sighed. “I’m always ok.”

“And I’m a people person. Quit lyin’.”

“You know what they say. Lie until it becomes the truth.”

“Who told you that?” His tone was bordering accusatory, personally offended by someone saying such bull to her.

Eve shrugged, nonchalantly. “Think I read it somewhere.”

Daryl shook his head. Resisting the urge to say ‘stop reading’ (cause that’s not gonna happen) and instead went with, “Don’t fill yer head with that shit. Lyin’ makes you blind.”

“Aye aye captain.” Eve mumbled.

“Ey, don’t fall asleep.”

“I’m planning a counter strike, not sleeping.” Eve retorted even though he was right, she is about to fall asleep on her feet.

“What have you got?” Daryl humored her.

She shrugged again. “Set something on fire and beat the crap out of everyone ruining my day.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“You get the brass knuckles, I’ll get the chloroform.”

“Deal.”

“I’m gonna miss you.”

“This ain’t goodbye. We’ll still see each other, every day.” Daryl emphasized.

Eve sighed and finally extracted herself to stand up straight again. “Then I guess, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Daryl nodded and gave her a brief peck on the forehead.

It’s almost ominous how it feels like he’s just going camping with Merle for the weekend. Like that feeling you get when you watch a movie and two people say goodbye to each other but you can tell something bad is gonna happen.

“Is my backpack in here?”

Daryl nodded and dragged it over.

Eve searched it for a moment before pulling out a few things and handing them to Daryl. “You need these more than I do.”

Daryl looked down at the small compass and the night vision goggles.

“Be careful out there.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t fall into any holes. That’s your thing.”

Eve jabbed his arm but cracked a smile. That’s what he was hoping for.

It’s crazy how he’s gotten so used to this that he’s actually scared to go without it. He leaned down as naturally as breathing and connected their lips in a long but soft kiss that was immediately returned.

“Uh — guys. Why does it look like they’re saying goodbye?” Randall opened his mouth before he could stop himself and the group's attention turned to the back of the car, just as the two broke apart.

Eve stepped around Daryl and walked straight up to Merle, with determined strides and a face of stone.

Merle stared at Eve’s scorching eyes, a sharp word on the tip of his tongue but she didn’t give him the chance.

An ominous little smile pulled up the corners of her broken lips, the swelling having gone down to a point where the cuts look like someone failed to stitch her mouth closed.

“If _ anything _ happens to him I will find you, a rat, some boiled water, and a magnet. So remember this,” A dark twinkle flitted through her gaze. “Blood makes you related. _ Loyalty _ makes you family. Make a choice. Choose wisely.”

* * *

Eve leaned against the backseat window, watching the green of the forest whoosh past.

The ride was tense and silent, Eve seemed to be the only one relaxed, when she should be the most rigid of them all.

Daryl just left. He left the group, he left _ her _. For Merle.

Glenn can’t understand how she’s so calm.

Maggie had her own thoughts about it from the front seat. She’s probably heartbroken. None of them ever expected Daryl to make a decision like that. It feels surreal that he’s actually gone.

Glenn has more perspective on this face of hers though, which is why he’s concerned. That’s the face she used to wear back when they first met. When she was closed off and guarded herself better than Azkaban.

It’s been a long time since he’s seen it. Truth be told, he thought he’d never see it again with how Daryl managed to pry it off her like a tin can.

He left her alone for most of the ride, swarmed with his own thoughts but eventually it got to him and he gently poked her leg.

Eve looked at him in the reflection of the window before turning her head.

His eyes asking, ‘are you ok?’ and for once she didn’t feel like answering even in the most rudimentary way.

All these little aches and pains have finally caught up with her and she’s so tired she’s on the verge of falling asleep. It doesn’t help that she was already drifting earlier when she was standing with Daryl.

Ugh, Daryl was right. She does need Hershel to take a look at this, but she needs a nap more, and she’s dreading having to fall asleep by herself now. She’s gotten used to having a presence next to her, helping her sleep through the night.

Her chest is tight. It feels like she’s got bowling balls on each shoulder and her tummy is burning like stomach acid is leaking down into her intestines.

She has half a mind to just go collect a ton of gasoline, find a car, load it up, take it to Woodbury, put a brick on the gas pedal and let it crash through their gates and burn the town down. Just to get it over with, or at the very least to make the first strike and improve their chances.

If she was in better physical shape, she might have actually done it.

If she was in better shape she might be able to come up with something than that.

There’s no telling when Woodbury will retaliate but they will, they’ve got no time for naps. When they get back they’re gonna have to start a damn war council meeting.

Without numbers, traps are their best option. Use the terrain and their prison stronghold advantage.

_ ‘What a disaster this place has turned out to be. We were better off drifting with the wind. _’

Eve didn’t notice in the midst of her thoughts that her eyes had dropped closed and her head had sunk towards Glenn’s shoulder.

Glenn was already leaning to that side cradling his bruised ribs, so his head naturally came to rest on top of hers.

It may have been the familiarity of an older sister-esque relationship or just that Eve is the only one in the car he’s not at odds with right now, exhaustion, injury, but his eyes were also soon closed and both of the beat up runners were fast asleep, leaving only Rick & Maggie awake to drive the rest of the way home.

They exchanged a few words of gratitude that they’re both able to get some rest but after that, the car was silent.

Meanwhile Daryl trekked through the forest with his brother, his shoulders tense and Merle’s gruff obnoxious giggle fit filling his ears, just waiting for the relentless mockery about his kiss with Eve that Merle undoubtedly saw.

Sure enough, they hadn’t made it a quarter of a mile before a big shit-eating smirk crawled across Merle’s mug.

Daryl looked the other way, rolling his eyes. ‘_ Here we go. _’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything! If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/
> 
> A big thanks to all of my supporters and to anyone who has donated to me!  
Xhak  
Jessica Taylor  
Tessasgoat  
Jupiter /Enis


	176. Chapter 176

Merle has to hand it to that girl. She knows how to make a threat; and he doesn’t doubt she could make good on it.

It’s a little  unsettling odd that she bothered to threaten him. But that could have a little somethin’ to do with the way she and his baby brother were lockin’ lips in their own little world over there.

“Since when did you like that, huh? Was the winter that cold?” Merle’s obnoxious laughter grated on Daryl’s eardrum and he walked faster.

“Ey!” Merle caught up, “You can’t be serious — Is that really your type?”

“What of it?” The branches snapped under Daryl’s boots as he stomped through the forest.

“What’s gotten into you, boy!?” Merle shouted at his back.

Daryl kept ahead of him, subconsciously trying to escape. As if you’d ever be able to escape Merle Dixon so easily.

“Hey! Hey!” Merle chased after him, almost cackling. “You gotta be kidding me. You can’t actually  _ like  _ that woman.”

Daryl wanted to whirl around and smack that annoying grin right off his face.

“Are you out of your damn mind, boy?”

“Just leave it, will ya. It’s gonna be dark soon.” Daryl attempted to change the topic because if Merle keeps going like this, he  _ will _ lose his temper.

Only reason he hasn’t is because Merle hasn’t realized that Daryl’s been leading them back towards the prison. At this rate, they won’t be able to make it before sunrise, but they should be able to at least get in the area before dark.

He isn’t even sure how he’s gonna sneak away from Merle to meet up with Eve yet.

* * *

Carol and Carl slid the gates open and let the two cars in, closing it right behind them as they parked inside.

Rick hopped out, telling Maggie to drive them up and hugged his son while they drove up. He’ll break the news to Carol, seeing as how Eve’s in no state to.

She woke up just a few minutes before they arrived back but she hasn’t said a word.

The stop woke Glenn up just as Maggie climbed over the center into the driver seat and moved the car forward again, to the upper yard where the vehicles parked back in their original spots.

While everyone else got out, Eve remained seated. Her eyes didn’t move from the window even though she was just staring at the building now, she wasn’t looking at something tangible in the first place so they remained stuck on the single spot on the window.

They all wisely let her be, even as Carol, Carl, and Rick came up. Only Carl noticed that she was still sitting in the car.

Hershel came outside along with Beth to meet Maggie and soon everyone except Hershel, Rick and Eve went inside.

Eve finally moved her eyes from the window to the two people standing outside talking. She watched Rick’s face as Hershel spoke to him and by the end of their conversation, Eve wanted to bash her head against the window but she could only lean back, propping her leg up against the back of the seat in front of her and close her eyes to keep them from rolling right out of her head.

She stared down at her lap, a deep sigh forcing its way through her dry throat.

‘ _ Is this ever gonna end... _ ’ She doesn’t even know what’s happened while they were gone but something did. It always does. Every time she steps away for five minutes  _ something _ happens that she has to help clean up, if not deal with herself.

It passed ridiculous some time ago.

She’s not even sure why she gets involved in the first place.

What is with this endless stream of drama, fighting, and struggle?

If it’s not walkers, it’s some other group, if it’s not some other group it’s basic survival, and if it’s not basic survival, it’s some ludicrous argument of infighting.

She’s starting to regret taking on this dumpster fire.

Maybe she and Daryl should have left after all. It would’ve been much easier with just the two of them. They even had another chance to leave together, and yet she’s still here. Dealing with this.

Eve rubbed her eyes. A deep sense of shame washed over her for thinking about abandoning her family. No matter how difficult it is to get them to cooperate when they get like this, abandoning them should never be an option.

She chose to take this on. She’s known for a long time that it wouldn’t be easy and that she wouldn’t be able to back out once she chose this. She knew it would be hard, but she hasn’t been this stressed since the fiasco about Randall.

It’s stressful, taking everything on by yourself, taking on responsibilities. Convincing Rick and the others time and time again not to get crazy and to think carefully about the actions they take. It feels like babysitting.

Perhaps a different approach will be more effective.

Another heavy sigh left her and the cramped car began to feel suffocating. She pushed the door open and shut it just as the prison door burst open and a group of 4 people she didn’t recognize came running out, with Glenn behind them. Shouting from inside reached all the way to her and she ran for them.

Eve ran past the strangers with her knives pulled, and barely paid attention to how the stranger in front slid to an abrupt stop upon seeing her running at them with some intimidating instruments.

“Rick’s lost it.” Glenn explained as soon as she stopped in front of him.

She glanced at the strangers, a skinny kid who couldn’t be much older than Beth, a middle-aged white man who bears a resemblance to the kid, a young black woman who probably isn’t much older than Maggie, and a large strong looking black man — who despite his size doesn’t have a threatening atmosphere about him at all. Eve noted the old dirty yin & yang leather necklace before looking back at Glenn and raised an eyebrow.

“They came in through the tombs, Carl found them. We were talking about letting them stay, Rick just started going ballistic.” Glenn explained quickly.

Eve’s jaw set and Glenn watched her lips turn into a snarl.

“What are you gonna do?”

“This ends now.” Eve muttered darkly and didn’t spare a glance as she sheathed one knife and one after another she ripped the doors in her way open.

Nobody inside noticed the door open, all of their attention was on Rick, who had his gun out and was waving it around shouting at the upper balcony to, “Get out.”

Eve’s eyes followed then moved back to Rick, hardened and out of patience.

**“** ** _Enough!”_ **

The entire room jumped and whirled around at the booming voice.

More than half a dozen pairs of eyes stared, transfixed on the woman at the top of the steps, staring Rick down with eyes like a violent lightning storm. You could almost hear the crackling of electricity.

“I warned you what action I would take if this ever happened again.”

A pale palm extended towards him. Eyes hard & hot as freshly molded steel and devoid of leniency pinned Rick like an automatic rifle. Not even blinking.

Like a snake fully prepared to strike the first prey stupid enough to enter the cross-hairs, the entire room stood still as statues.

Rick hesitated and after a long moment, he reluctantly stepped forward, slowly placing the gun in her ice cold hand.

Eve’s fingers closed around the revolver and just like that, the entire group felt the passage of power. That same feeling you get when there’s a new president or someone is promoted to manager where you work, only this is quite a bit stronger.

“Get some rest, Rick. I’ll handle things from here.”

That was not a request, and the knife in her voice proved it more than the one gripped in her fist.

Only a few people in the entire room were able to find the words to accurately express it, even though those words didn’t leave a single person’s lips. She confiscated his position as leader.

Evelyn Rider...……just usurped Rick Grimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/
> 
> A big thanks to all of my monthly supporters and to anyone who has donated to me!  
Xhak  
Jessica Taylor  
Tessasgoat  
Jupiter /Enis


	177. Chapter 177

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/

Rick slowly nodded, the motion a little shaky and unstable, like a part of him was resisting the change but he knew he needed to agree, for himself if no one else; failing to consciously realize in his muddled state of mind that it really wasn’t a choice.

Rick’s trusted weapon lowered to Eve’s side as she let her hand down, and she watched with a stressed solemn heart as Rick made his way into the cell-block, hopefully to lie down and sleep for a while.

He’s the second person in charge now who’s cracked under the pressure and lost their mind, though he lasted much longer than Shane.

Eve doesn’t dare take this position lightly.

It’s safe to say that a clear chain of command is gonna be required. Not just a tacit understanding of who it defaults to when something happens and leaving it up to them to figure out what they should do in the event of a crisis. It would be better if everyone knew what they were supposed to do the majority of the time and didn’t have to be told each time.

They don’t have time to set up everything they need for this sudden change of leadership with Woodbury bearing arms and preparing for an attack.

She needs to prioritize — she needs to think, somewhere quiet where she won’t be disturbed, but they don’t have long to prepare. Having everyone dilly-dally here and just do whatever isn’t gonna fly. Not only will it waste time, it’ll put anxieties on the rise.

Eve looked up with a determined resolute gaze. “Carol, you handle the next meal. Carl, Randall, you’re on watch. Beth, look after Judith. Big T, T-Dog, take stock of our supplies starting with ammo, food and gas, then report to me. Maggie, rest. Glenn, your priority is recovery. When you’re ready, come see me.”

“You,” Eve looked at Michonne and the samurai stiffened, not knowing what to expect. “Rest.”

Eve could see the confusion on her face and normally she wouldn’t bother explaining but from what little she knows about this woman, she’s prone to impulsive strikes and just from her posture she’s even more tense than when Rick was waving around a gun.

It’s understandable that she doesn’t trust Eve, they haven’t really spoken and speaking is neither of their strong suits. Thus she has no insight into Eve's character or her intentions and vice versa. It’s natural for them to be wary of each other but they can’t afford that right now. Nobody’s stance or role can be ambiguous, so Eve opened her mouth.

“You helped start this fight, so take your share of responsibility. Until this is over, your place here is assured. No matter the outcome, afterwards you will be free to go. I have no reason to trust you, so Axel will keep an eye on you until further notice.”

Michonne’s lips pressed tight and nodded, resolutely. Agreeing that this is a fair arrangement, better than she could have expected to be honest.

She doesn’t like being watched but she can’t refute that while Rick may have had some reason, Eve has no reason to trust her, even though she helped save at least 4 from their group including herself.

Everything that’s happened up to now, even with the rescue working in her favor, they’ve pretty much just broken even on the scale of who owes who.

Eve doesn’t seem like the type of person to mess around (if only she knew), she seems a great deal more cautious than the others, Michonne saw that when she first saw the woman as she watched from behind a van when Merle was capturing them, back when he was chasing her down to kill her for the Governor.

It would be better to avoid getting on Eve’s bad side.

As off-kilter as this group is, they’re for the most part, reasonable, and a lot better than the secretive clown smiles of Woodbury, but it seems any form of slight or even just perceived betrayal is their bottom line. It won’t be tolerated and as she just saw, Eve’s intolerance comes with no warning.

Eve looked at Axel and he unintentionally held his breath. It took several long seconds of simply being stared at to realize she was waiting for him to accept the task, even though it hadn’t sounded like it was a choice when she said it.

Upon realizing this, he nodded rapidly, having no objection. Even though it had sounded like an order, it felt strangely nice to be more or less “asked” if he was alright with the task.

His whole life he’s gotten used to just being told what to do, he’s rarely been offered the option to decline but the longer he thought about it, the more he liked having that option. Not that he would’ve declined, it’s just nice to know the option was there.

Axel wasn’t alone in thinking that this arrangement is already off to a much better start. Before, it felt like they were limping along on one wheel, and when Rick took over with his ‘no more democracy’ it felt very tyrannical, even if it was a necessary decision at the time.

No one really knew what to expect when Eve — very in-keeping with herself — blind sided all of them and abruptly took charge, but her decisive actions, issuing tasks and taking control of the situation that had just started spiraling, felt similar to the bus driver having a heart attack and someone near the front jumping out of their seat to make sure it didn’t crash.

Rick’s been the leader for so long, it feels a little weird and even frightening for someone else to be in charge, and admittedly that was their first reaction, but Eve has possessed an uncanny aura of safety for a very long time. So long that no one would be able to point to an exact time when her presence had started to feel that way.

Knowing that someone always has your back takes an enormous amount of pressure off. Even if you can do it yourself, just knowing that someone is nearby who can help share the load if it becomes too much, gives a sense of assurance and stress relief of the highest magnitude. Much less knowing that there’s someone with lightning reflexes catching the dishes you drop.

With their tasks assigned and a direction to follow, everyone began to disperse to do what they were told, quickly emptying the room.

Eve tipped Carl’s hat as he and Randall moved past her and pretended as if she’d done nothing as he looked back to throw a playful glare at her, earning a brief smile in return before the prison door closed behind the two.

Eve’s smile didn’t last long but the brief moment of teasing did her a world of good, relaxing the tight knots forming in her shoulders before T-Dog walked up to her.

“You should get some rest too.” T-Dog reminded her and all he received was a slight nod before Eve joined in the dispersing to go find her handy little notebooks and retreat to a quiet place so she could think, and more importantly, plan.

Finding a place wasn’t difficult, she just went to one of the outdoor over-walks where she could look at the sky, in a place where she can do her best thinking and try to push this last day to the back of her mind, to be examined and processed at a later date.

It’s hot today, but thankfully there’s some cloud cover so all she had to do was take off her jacket, and yet that proved to be more difficult than imagined.

Her muscles and arms were so sore she could barely tolerate sitting up after she struggled free of the leather.

She leaned her back against the fence enclosing the hallway-sized platform walkway and just took a moment to breathe. Breathe deep through her nose and try to relax her body a little. She regrets not bringing a cushion of some kind out here.

She watched Carl and Randall at the top of their respective guard towers at the upper and lower gates.

Even though she can’t see it, she imagines both of them are wearing tough stone-like faces, like proper guards, taking their jobs very seriously; observing everything from the treeline, to the amount of walkers at the fences, to the weather.

They may be young but they’re both surprisingly diligent. Eve was a little worried about how well they’d get along but from what she’s seen they do fine. They’re not best friends or anything but they don’t really fight, and Randall’s become a lot more sure of himself. It seems he’s found some principles of his own to stick to. That’s reassuring.

Carl has started to seem a little emotionally stunted but given everything that’s happened to him recently, it would be strange and more worrisome if he was behaving normally.

Eve’s no parent. She can’t ever fill his mother’s shoes but she would never dare to.

She promised she would look after him so that’s what she’s gonna do, and she’s gonna do it the only way she knows how. By being there for him, and teaching him how to take care of himself, because that’s the best thing you can do for someone.

It may not last forever but there will be a time in everybody’s life when they are alone, and they will either know how to handle themselves, or will have to learn fast.

She was the latter, it just so happens that her “training” started early. So it’s her job to ensure that Carl is the former and someday, Judith too.

Before she knew it, over half an hour had passed, just sitting there thinking deeply about heavy things and feeling the weight of the world they live in. The only thing she relied on to pull her out of these hazes isn’t here to stop her. She’s become dependent, but she can’t tell if she’s just always needed someone to do it and hasn’t had anyone until recently, or if she has truly become dependent. After all, no one person can do everything, everyone has shortcomings.

The idea of needing someone else doesn’t sit well with her and made her shift uncomfortably, debating whether or not it was harmful to be reliant on someone like this but ultimately she came to the conclusion that it’s irrelevant. She doesn’t know if it’s harmful to rely on someone to fill in her shortcomings but she knows for a fact that it would be more harmful to deny the facts.

Yes, everybody needs somebody and for different reasons. It doesn’t matter what those reasons are or what holes they’re filling, they’re still reasons and they still fill in the gaps, like cement between bricks.

When she finally managed to pull herself from the heavy atmosphere and start jotting things down in her notebooks, making notes and just starting to sort out priorities and organize them into task lists, a certain one-footed white-haired old man found her hiding spot.

Eve looked over at the sound of the door opening and sighed in her heart, already setting her books down in her lap, even though she just started.

Hershel made his way over and looked down at her little pile of notebooks surrounding her. “You look like you’re hard at work. Am I interrupting?”

Eve shook her head, knowing there must be a reason he came out here to find her.

“It’s good that you took charge. I don’t think anyone else could have.”

“It was necessary.” Eve answered, turning her eyes down and scribbling down the thought that just struck her before returning her gaze upward.

“I agree.” Hershel replied honestly. “I’ve known for a while that Rick was on the edge, I suspect you have too. We all have. I did what I could to at least delay it but the burden of responsibility is a heavy one. No one person can bear it for long.”

Eve got the strange feeling the latter half of that was directed at her.

“I think I speak for everyone when I say that I have faith in your abilities, Eve. I know you’ll take care of things but you must avoid the traps of your predecessors. You have a tendency to hide the severity of your wounds and isolate yourself to heal alone.”

Eve looked down at her lap, discomfort growing inside her and making her want to squirm as she listened.

“I’m telling you this now, because I don’t want to see you hurt yourself, that you can’t do that forever. Now that you’re in this position, you can’t run off or hunker down when you don’t want to be seen.”

He leaned down and braced a heavy hand on her shoulder. “Try not to overburden yourself. I know that Daryl leaving has been and will be the hardest on you. You relied on him, we all did, but he’s not the only person here you can rely on.”

Eve nodded gratefully after a moment of letting his words sink in. She’s not foolish enough to think she could do this alone, nor is she in any state to try. What she can do, is take over directing this disastrous play.

“I have faith in you to lead us in Rick’s place.”

“You’ve misunderstood.” Eve scribbled in her notebook, dragging another into her lap to search through it. “I’m not the leader, or replacing him.”

Hershel’s eyebrows knit in bewilderment but instead of trying to figure out what this enigma meant by that statement, he just decided to ask. “What are you then?”

Eve looked up, eyes filled with a quiet steadiness and replied without a moment of hesitation.

“I’m the fail-safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/
> 
> A big thanks to all of my monthly supporters and to anyone who has donated to me!  
Xhak  
Jessica Taylor  
Tessasgoat  
Jupiter /Enis


	178. Chapter 178

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, I didn't do a lot of editing this chapter.
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/

“When do you plan on turning it back over to him?”

“When he convinces me that he can handle it.” Eve scribbled down another thought. ‘ _ And after I’ve straightened it out. _ ’

Hershel watched her curiously, thankful that he still has decent eyesight and was able to read it when she wrote down ‘front road nail pits, spike tires.’

“And if he can’t?” Herschel asked, with a rising feeling of hope for their situation.

Eve just looked at him. Hershel’s a smart man, he doesn’t need her to tell him that if Rick can’t handle it, then he shouldn’t have it. He’s watched just as well as she has what leadership has done to their friend. It’s torn him apart with an unceasing tide and left him to pick up the shreds. A shield can only take so much punishment before it cracks.

Hershel nodded, glancing at his crutches. There’s only one more thing that concerns him.

“Are you ready to take on this responsibility? It could last much longer than you’re imagining.”

“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have. Does your mind need easing?”

Hershel shook his head. “I’m aware of your capabilities, my dear. Like I said before, I have faith in you. I still remember when you gave us that warnin’ on the side of the road. I expected that one day, you may have to follow through, just remember that this isn’t your burden to bear alone. We all have our responsibilities and though we may look out for each other, we’re all responsible for doing our part. Part of that is not taking on more than your fair share.”

He gave her a pointed look. It doesn’t need to be said that Eve has this particular problem. He’d go so far as to say it’s her Achilles heel.

“That being said, I came out here to take a look at you.” He motioned at her face and with that one sentence, dread dumped over her like a bucket of cold water.

Nevertheless, she put her things down and stood up so Hershel could lean against the fence while he took a look at her.

“Do you have a plan yet?”

Eve nodded as he motioned at her shirt and she lifted it, experiencing deja vu as she grit her teeth, letting him prod her ribs for breaks, and she managed to squeeze out the words without too much difficulty. “Workin’ on it.”

“Any ideas?” Hershel paused for a moment to make eye contact before going back to his poking.

“A few.” Eve controlled her breathing, despite difficulty, to help control the pain.

Hershel nodded and over the course of several minutes, finished concluding his - painful - examination. “Welp, nothin’s broken this time. Just some deep bruising. I’d tell you to be more careful but that’s never stopped you before. You’re fortunate that your jacket protected you, if this pressure had been applied directly to your skin we would be looking at a much bigger problem than some interesting bruises.”

Eve nodded and waved as Hershel took up his crutches and left then she returned to work, occasionally being interrupted by those who finished their tasks.

Eventually night began to descend without notice until a chill nipped at her skin and sent a shiver up her spine, making her look up to find her jacket and finally realize that she’s been squinting at her notebooks and moving them closer and closer to her face as the light’s gone. The brink of twilight, her favorite time.

Her hands automatically set the books aside without her eyes ever tearing from the sky and without a thought she found herself laying down. Somehow seeing the stars just flipped a switch in her head and turned her brain off. The only thought drifting through it being how long it’s been since she’s simply watched the sky. Even going a single day without doing this feels like a long time but not actually being able to keep track of when she last did it is disconcerting.

It’s like being chronically sleep deprived. After a while you stop noticing the effects and devolve until you’re an irritable, anxious, even depressed wreck and can’t figure out why and don’t have the energy to either.

A calm settled over her, staring up and watching with neither fixed nor inattentive interest little wisps of pink and orange clouds cool to darker shades of blue and white as the rays of the sun diffused until she was staring at a vast blanket of deep blue and black that looked like someone spilled silver glitter all across the sky.

She couldn’t be more grateful for the moment of peace. It’s a hard fought thing these days and strangely the whole afternoon, she’s had this gradual building sense of a soldier before shipping out for active combat. Like the calm before a storm, a grave acceptance of the hard days to come. She knows all too well that a lot of people are going to die in the coming days. A single moment to prepare herself for that is more than she dared to hope for. Best not waste it.

She stayed there until the cool breeze calming her nerves started to get a little too chilly for comfort against her exposed skin and finally sat up. The last of the light had long gone so unless she wanted to sleep out here, it was time to collect her things and head back inside.

After tossing her jacket over her shoulder, she did just that and made her way to the perch she and Daryl had claimed. When she reached the top of the stairs she couldn’t help but stare. The space isn’t that big but it looks so empty, with the absence of only a few key items that are almost always here.

Although reluctance pulled at her stomach she set her things down and laid down, and an empty bed has never felt so big before.

The two mattresses pushed against the wall together is about the same size as her own bed had been but laying here with her back against the wall instead of against another person is weirdly disturbing. It almost felt like her senses were being distorted.

She had no idea how long she laid there, closing and reopening her eyes at the slightest little sounds all night long. It didn’t matter how tired she was, or how long she managed to fall asleep for, sooner rather than later she found herself awake again and looking around the dark cell-block, listening to the others breathe and toss around in their sleep. It seems everyone is having restless nights again. In light of everything, she can hardly blame them.

Insomnia is a powerful thing. Even Judith was affected. When little cries reached Eve’s ears, for a moment she thought she was hallucinating and then a sharp little hiccup had her sitting straight up and on her feet.

The cold stone floor felt like walking on ice to her bare feet but she descended the stairs quickly and as soon as a figure appeared in the shadow of Rick’s cell’s doorway the baby girl’s head turned and she continued to cry but with more desperation.

As soon as the distressed child’s hand made a grabby motion at her, Eve moved into the cell and after a brief moment of hesitation and chewing on her lip, she glanced at Rick who was dog tired and dead asleep, before reaching into the makeshift crib - a mail carrying box with some towels and blankets folded into the bottom and carefully as she could, just as she was taught, picked her up.

Eve had to shift her arms a little but she gently started bouncing the little girl like she’s seen Beth and Carol do. Almost immediately the cries died and she was left with a wide-eyed little child staring up at her like she didn’t quite know what to make of Eve. The feeling was mutual. Eve had no idea what she was doing but whatever it is it’s working so she kept it up.

Eventually she felt creepy for standing in Rick’s “room” holding his child, so she moved out of the cell, turned back on her heel to quietly grab the baby crate, and slipped out again, setting the crate on the lowest steps while she walked around in circles trying to put Judith back to sleep.

Thankfully some child care-taking instincts within her are still intact, enough that she had an instinctual idea of how to get her to rest, but she couldn’t help wondering if Judith could sense their unrest and that’s why the baby who normally sleeps like a rock, became fussy in the middle of the night and needed some reassuring.

Judith found both Eve’s shirt - over her heart - and her finger and grasped both in her tiny fists, refusing to let go.

Somewhere along the line Eve was lost in thought and her movements became automatic, the unceasing steady motions lulled the baby to sleep long before she resurfaced from the depths of her mind and she finally looked down to see her dead asleep, like usual.

However when Eve took short strides back to the steps and attempted to put her down in the baby crate, Judith didn’t let go. Eve tried for several minutes to find a way to get her to let go but each attempt ended with Judith nearly waking up, so in the end she had no choice but to continue holding her.

‘ _ This is why parents are always exhausted. _ ’ Eve nodded to herself. ‘ _ Fine fine. I wasn’t gonna sleep tonight anyway. _ ’

Taking the crate wasn’t even an option with both her hands occupied like this, so Eve simply climbed the steps and went back to bed, this time sitting up.

‘ _ At least one of us is getting a good rest. _ ’ Eve thought as she listened to Judith’s peaceful breaths and watching her curiously. The warm little bundle in her arms has some weird sleeping habits, like every so often she’d kick her little legs but wouldn’t be awake and then she’d shift to chew on Eve’s shirt, which Eve couldn’t let her do because who knows what is on her shirt so eventually she had to put the corner of Judith’s own blankie into her mouth to stop her while she got up and tried to find her binky, which turned out to be folded into the corner of her bedding. On the bright side, lil’ ass-kicker let go of her hand so she could actually search.

After all that, Eve wound up laying in bed with the baby sound asleep on her torso, sucking on her binky and her little head resting against Eve’s chest, like the sound of her heartbeat was enough assurance that nothing bad could ever happen.

Eve closed her eyes, her hands keeping the baby safe but she knew better than to fall asleep now. Thankfully, as tired as she suddenly is, she’s too paranoid about accidentally hurting her to fall asleep. That is, until she almost did doze off. For the sake of Judith’s safety, she risked the baby waking up to put her in her little crate but kept her hand inside where Judith’s grip had once again transferred to her fingers and laid down beside it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!
> 
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> 
> A big thanks to all of my monthly supporters and to anyone who has donated to me!  
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> 
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	179. Chapter 179

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
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Eve didn’t get much sleep but the next thing that woke her up was the sunlight of daybreak.

Judith was sound asleep as Eve propped herself up on one exhausted elbow, ignoring the irritating injuries she sustained for umpteenth time. Daryl would be mad if he knew but she’s gotten so used to pain now that she barely even remembered that she took a beating, if it wasn’t for the unusual rug-burn feeling on her arms to remind her. The burn seems a little worse than when she received it but so many other things were happening, her nerves were probably overridden and just ignored it until now.

Pushing herself to sit up, her thumb and forefinger automatically held Judith’s tiny palm between them and Eve let out a short, breathy laugh. She couldn’t sleep alone after all.

Her eyes creased fondly as the corners of her lips pulled up in a gentle smile at the little one.

‘ _ Thanks for keeping me company, kiddo. _ ’

Eve lightly pressed her lips against Judy’s hand and carefully extracted her fingers, setting the little monkey’s hand on her tiny tummy and stood up, stretching the soreness from her arms and listening to her back crack like pop rocks.

Eve went through her normal routine of reequipping herself, checking her clip, checking the sharpness of her blades - which could use a few passes with a whetstone - and then slipped on her backpack.

Eve hefted the basket up, being careful not to disturb the child and carried her silently down the stairs, placing her back at Rick’s bedside and went out to their supplies.

Eve got stock of what they’ve got yesterday, so she only grabbed a few things that they won’t miss and tucked them into her backpack, mentally trying to recount what Daryl keeps in his bag. He usually has a full water bottle but with two of them they’re gonna need at least two, so just in case they haven’t found anything, she grabbed a spare water bottle and dug into her backpack to shake her own canteen. It’s mostly full, so if Daryl’s bottle is empty, she’ll refill it. They’ve got plenty of water so it won’t even make a dent.

When the supplies were ready, Eve set off, closing the prison door behind her as quietly as she could.

The sky was a deep azure blue, with scattered clouds as she trekked down to the first gate, passing the overturned prison bus where Michonne had decided to stay last night.

She glanced through the window as she passed it and the samurai was fast asleep, with her weapon by her side.

Eve couldn’t help taking quiet amusement in the thought of them collecting ancient warriors; a ninja and a samurai, and mused about which one they’d collect next as she made her way through the outer path enclosed by the double layered fences, all the way out to the part they cut a hole in when they first got here. It felt like weeks had passed but truthfully it hadn’t really been that long. Keeping track of the days hasn’t been a priority.

Eve watched the orange slowly returning to the lush green surroundings, making her way across the little wood bridge that goes over the small creek that runs outside the fence and moved into the woods; a path she’s familiar with, as it’s the one she & Daryl usually take to go hunting early in the morning, the few times they’ve been able to since they been here. There’s a lot of rabbits in this area, so it never took them more than an hour or two to catch a few and head back. A great relief from their constant food hunt and diet of rubbery squirrel (an unconscious shiver ran down her spine) from the winter times.

It took only a few minutes to get up the little hill to the tracks and stop in almost the exact spot where the 3 of them first spotted the prison, then she sat down and waited.

* * *

Time ticked by slowly but not slow enough it seems, soon sunrise had long passed.

All throughout the hour she reasoned with herself that they were on foot, they probably couldn’t make it all the way back so quickly, and Merle’s more stubborn than a mule, even if Daryl didn’t tell him about their arrangement, he might resist heading this direction simply because the prison was over here.

It didn’t quell her worries but a reasonable explanation was better than being steeped in anxiety. Of course it was only a temporary fix for her feelings but she left the supplies anyway, and resolved to bury the worry deep inside her heart. If he doesn’t show up tomorrow,  _ then _ she’ll worry.

With the sun up, she can’t stay any longer. The others should be waking up now. They’ve got a long day ahead of them.

When she got back inside, breakfast was already being made and Beth had retrieved Judith from her crib, feeding her while Carol was making food.

It didn’t take long for the smell to lure people from their beds after a restless night and all through breakfast, Glenn shot anxious looks at her, just like the night the two of them met after she saved him. The same feeling he had back then, of not knowing what to do but knowing something had to be done, until he finally couldn’t take it anymore and asked, “So what’s the plan?”

* * *

Merle couldn't believe what he was hearing.

“Damn little brother, you actually went and got yourself whipped. Must be some mighty fine ass. It's always the quiet ones who are freakiest.”

“Man, shut up already!” Daryl swung around all of a sudden, his tolerance finally hitting its limit. He’s already in a bad mood because it’s well past sunrise and they’re nowhere near the prison because Merle keeps fighting him on where they are, much less which direction to go.

“Ooo, seems I hit a nerve.” Merle’s eyes sizzled with snide mirth, like he’s having the time of his life with this but Daryl can tell that he’s angry. When Merle’s angry, he makes vicious jokes and mocks but you should really be concerned when he  _ stops _ .

With that in mind, Daryl growled, “Asshole” under his breath and turned around, rolling his eyes and stomped through the forest instead of his usual careful step. Regret swarming him like a cloud. He should’ve dodged Merle’s question about his relationship with Eve, he knew Merle wouldn’t react to it well but it was gonna happen sooner or later. He thought it would be better to get it over with, now he knows what a stupid idea that was. He would’ve been better off just not answering and let Merle be an asshole by himself.

“How long’s that been goin on, huh? Since Atlanta? What, you get yourself some tail and forget about the cardinal rule, bros before hoes? Ey, talk to me boy! I bet you missin’ it already.”

Like a dog with a bone, Merle was relentless but Daryl stopped replying and stopped reacting to the aggravation after a while, he was so angry he couldn’t even speak if he had wanted to.

He was right about one thing though. Daryl was  _ really _ missing Eve and her quiet disposition, now.

After a ridiculous amount of time — like a half a day, Merle finally got tired of his own voice and Daryl breathed a sigh of relief. Being separated for so long, Daryl almost forgot what his brother was like. His tolerance for this shit is a lot lower than it used to be. He can’t remember the last time he was the target of his vicious mockery [points to anybody who knows what that term is from] but he couldn’t help the deep sigh in his heart.

He’s sadly a bit proud that after a while he was able to just roll his eyes and redirect Merle’s attention to something else, like he’d been doing most of his life.

As soon as Daryl mentioned breakfast, that’s exactly what happened. He's glad his old tricks still work, but unlike before, it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Merle is relentless when he locks onto something but once he's let it go and his attention has moved to something else, he seldom goes back to the previous topic. His memory ain't that long. It's all crammed up with every insult under the sky ready to be fired from the cannon of his mouth. He's lucky he lost his hand and not his tongue or Merle would truly have lost his mind.

* * *

A few traps and failed attempts to catch breakfast later and Daryl was frustrated. So much so that he didn’t even have the energy left to roll his eyes anymore, standing here keeping watch while Merle answered the call of nature.

He’d gotten so used to expressing himself that he’d just done it naturally when he was with Merle but that didn’t last long. He forgot how exhausting Merle was to be around and so he didn’t even notice when his own quiet disposition came slipping back; falling back into old habits of keeping his mouth shut and not voicing what he’s got to say but the difference now was, he was overly aware of how uncomfortable he was.

It felt…….. wrong. Everything just felt wrong and it put him on edge even more than he already was. It doesn’t help that he can’t stop thinking about when the Governor is gonna attack the prison and whether or not they can get back there in time.

“There ain’t nothin’ out here but mosquitoes and ants.” Daryl complained, fed up with this and trying to get rid of the itchy feeling in his heart.

Merle spoke the way someone would to an impatient child. “Patience, little brother. Sooner or later, squirrels bound to scurry across your path.”

At the mention of squirrels, Daryl opened his mouth to point out that she doesn’t like squirrel and right as the syllable was about to leave his mouth he realized his near mistake, but Eve’s name was already on the tip of his tongue and his mouth stumbled into a similar but slightly different first word, “Even so that ain’t much food.”

“More than nothin’.” Merle thankfully didn’t notice his near slip and just took it as Daryl complaining.

“Better luck goin through one a them houses back on the turn off.”

“Is that what your new friends taught ya? Hmm?” Merle zipped himself up, turning around. “How to loot for booty.”

Daryl ignored the obvious attempt to make this about him and Eve again like he hadn’t even noticed. “Man, we've been out here for hours. Why don’t we find a stream, try our luck with some fish.”

“I think you’re just tryna lead me back to that road, man. Get me over to that prison.”

‘ _ Yeah ‘cept you won’t just GO already. _ ’ Daryl was too tired to argue, so he just went with it. It’s not like it can get any worse, it’s already gone as badly as possible. “They got shelter. Food. Pot to piss in, might not be a bad idea.”

“For you maybe. Ain’t gonna be no damn party for me.”

“Everyone’ll get used to each other.” Daryl looked through his scope, distracting himself. He knows it’s mostly wishful thinking but Eve said she’d try to convince the others, he can’t help hoping to high heaven that she worked one of her miracles and managed to convince everyone in one night. He knows it’s only a matter of time before they’ll listen but he doesn’t know how long he can stay out here with just Merle.

“They’re all dead. Makes no difference.”

Daryl stiffened imperceptibly.

“How can you be so sure?” He concealed his worry well but it ate at his insides more fiercely than any walker.

“Right now. He’s probably hostin’ a housewarming party, where he’s gonna bury what’s left a your friends.” Merle spit like a true redneck from the deep south. “Let’s hook some fish. Come on.” Merle walked past him.

* * *

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	180. Chapter 180

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Glenn sketched a layout on the floor with a piece of chalk, reminding Eve of his plan to grab the gun bag in Atlanta so long ago. Carl knelt opposite of him and the rest of the group, minus Rick and Randall, surrounding them.

“You say you found Tyreese’s group here?” Glenn pointed to a section on the map close to the tunnels where Eve & T-Dog found each other before.

Carl nodded and went to say something, but Glenn cut him off. “We secured this.”

“Well... he thought he came through here.” Carl pointed out on the map and T leaned over him to get a better look.

“That’s right next to where Eve and I went through. There’s a hole in that back fence where we got out but Tiny and I sealed that up.”

Eve tongued her molars as she thought back to it. She and T-Dog did indeed escape that way, but there were walkers piling up on that other side, they haven’t taken a look before because they’ve had other things to deal with and it’ll be mighty dangerous to go back there with how many walkers were inside that back fence. She’s doubtful that any of them have wandered off.

Glenn expelled an exacerbated sigh, rubbing his forehead. “That means there’s another breach.”

“Ok. The whole front of the prison is unsecure. If walkers just strolled in, then it’s gonna be cake for a group of armed men.”

_Provided they can get past the walkers._

“Why are we even so sure he’s gonna attack? Maybe you scared him off.” Beth asked.

_If only that were the case, Beth._

Michonne drew everyone’s attention to where she was leaning against the small cell/cage in the corner of the room. “He had fish tanks full of heads. Walkers and humans, trophies. He’s comin’.”

Classic serial killer behavior.

“We should hit him now.” Glenn said suddenly and Eve looked down at him.

He looked up at her from his crouched position beside her.

“What?” Beth voiced the confusion of the room.

“He won’t be expecting it. We’ll sneak back in and put a bullet in his head.”

“We’re not assassins.” Carol made a glum face like Glenn’s lost his mind.

_That’s might not be such a bad idea._ _The others may not be up to something like this... but I could do it. If Michonne is willing to show me the way, I could get in, finish this quickly, cause some chaos and get out before they even know I’m there._

Eve stood quietly, arms crossed and a finger absently rubbing her lip as she thought about it.

“You’re not really considering this are you?” T-Dog was the first to notice. “That’s a suicide mission.”

If she’s gonna do this, she can’t leave without a backup plan. If things go wrong, the prison needs to be ready to receive some heavily armed unwanted guests.

The more she thought about it the less merit the idea had though. Assassination is the most ideal plan but there’s too many ways it could go wrong, and when has ideal ever gone smoothly for anyone?

Thinking down to the details of it, they don’t even have the ability to pull it off right now. That being said…. Sneak attacks are entirely within the realm of possibility. They’re lower risk, more effective on an organization where they can disrupt the structure and will create a fear factor that will ultimately help them; turn Woodbury’s numbers against them.

They have no way of telling how long this conflict will last. It could be a skirmish, or it could go on for weeks, and worst-case scenario it could even become a siege. They need to be prepared for this to be a long haul.

In the end, Eve tabled the assassination plan as plan C and finally opened her mouth to put everyone at ease. “It’s a good plan but we’re not fighting a single person. You have to deal with the army before you can get to the general.”

“Wouldn’t taking out the general disorganize them and make them not want to fight and stuff?” Glenn asked and Eve nodded, not denying it.

“Normally it would be my first choice. But assassination is all about opportunity. We don’t have the time or ability to find one right now. It’d be a different story if the terrain around Woodbury allowed for a sniper or if we had someone on the inside. Since we escaped, they’ve no doubt sealed the holes we exploited. Right now, our best option is to play to our strengths and focus on our defenses.”

“And what are those exactly? If you haven’t noticed, we don’t have a whole lot to work with here.” Carol was skeptical. She has faith in Eve but most of them have not been shy about where they stand in this debate of: Do we leave, or do we stay.

Eve has her own view on this argument. Yes, the best option would be to leave, but this Governor isn’t just gonna let them go. If Michonne’s story of the Governor sending Merle after her like a bloodhound after she was “allowed” to leave, has any truth to it, then even if they leave Woodbury will pursue them. And so long as Daryl is in this area but not with them, she’s not going anywhere.

Even if they do leave, it’s better to make it look like they plan to stay and then make it seem like the Governor beat them and they were all killed so they can make a clean getaway and not have to worry about watching their backs.

Eve resisted the urge to shake her head at these silly cute people. “Look around us. What do you see?”

Everybody looked around and ultimately it was Carl who said, “Walls and bars.”

Eve nodded, as it’s technically true even though it wasn’t quite the answer she wanted. “What are those good for?”

“What’s your point?” Maggie asked impatiently, not in the mood for a learning experience.

Eve held back a tidal wave of frustrated exhaustion. She’ll let Maggie off this once since she’s been through a lot the last few days.

“You wanna know what I see?”

Confusion passed over everyone’s faces.

“_A fortress._”

Understanding overtook the eyes of the group as they hurried to look around again.

“What’s designed to keep people in, is also designed to keep them out. These walls are thick enough to withstand almost anything they could throw at us. The windows are high up and made of bulletproof glass. It would take half a day and a power saw or industrial blowtorch to get through any one of these doors without a key and the tombs are a maze that we’ve taken the time to figure out how to navigate.”

“The forest surrounding this place is thick and dense. There’s only one way to even get vehicles to this place and they won’t be able to take this prison without vehicles - they’d never get close enough before we know where they are.”

“We don’t have a lot of firepower or numbers, but we do have a cement block designed to withstand a siege. Traps are going to be our best option. They can beat against this place for as long as they want but if we do this right, then anything short of a tank or explosives, and they’ll be out of luck.”

“What are you thinking?” Glenn turned his whole body towards her, many people coming in closer as she took the chalk from him and crouched down to draw the outer area onto their schematic; the fences and yards, and even the road and the train tracks on the hill.

Thanks to her and Daryl hunting in the area most mornings, she knows the landscape pretty well. “This road is the only path to the prison. Woodbury is too far away to not bring cars even if they’re not going to use them, which I doubt they’ll be stupid enough not to.”

“They have to come down this road, so our best option is to start laying traps here and at the most vulnerable places and work our way out from those.”

Eve started marking places for traps with X’s. “Here and here are our most vulnerable points, we’ll start with those. Next is these fences. These fences are going to be both our greatest assets and our greatest obstacles. They keep walkers out and can’t be climbed over but can still be shot through, so our next order is to fortify those well enough for a stand-off.”

“Spike pits on this dirt road won’t be hard to dig and can be fairly shallow. Fill them with anything sharp enough to pop tires, broken glass, loose nails, etc. That’ll force them to either leave the vehicles or it’ll jam the road and either way they’ll be forced to come through on foot.”

“They’ll bottleneck here, and if they want to get inside the prison, they’ll have to fight us in this area by the gates.” Eve circled the space in front of the front gate.

“We’ll put more traps in this space, doesn’t have to be a lot, just enough to make it seem like there’s a lot of them. This will force them to be more cautious and aware of their surroundings, at which point they’ll have to switch their attention back & forth between the prison and their immediate space which will distract them. With this, we’ll be able to use our stronghold advantage to the utmost and shoot from the towers and behind the fortified fences.”

“Our goal here is to drive them to retreat, not to defeat them. If we can defeat them with this, great, but chasing them off is just as good. If they retreat it will buy us enough time to not only fortify our defenses further and lay more traps, but also we can make two more plans. A counterattack, and an escape route. No matter which way the wind blows then, we’re covered. If we’re lucky, we may even be able to pull an assassination at this time. Probably not on the Governor himself, as he’ll slink back into his rat hole the moment they return, but we might be able to take out others in positions of power that their people rely on.”

“Like his other lieutenants?” Carl asked.

Eve nodded, “Take out the captains, and their ranks will descend into chaos.”

Eve looked at Michonne and she already knew what she wanted.

Michonne nodded. “I can point them out. Won’t be difficult. Most of their people are ordinary, never even held a gun before so there’s only a handful of men who are in charge.”

That’s good. That means while Woodbury has a lot of people, they’ll only be fighting a third of them, half at most. They’re still outnumbered but that shrinks the gap.

“Do you know if they have any sharp shooters or anyone with above average aim?”

Michonne nodded. “Most of the people in charge have better aim but from what I saw the rest of them are just so-so.”

Eve nodded, filing away the information.

“They’ll likely come at us again and again, trying to break our front line. Our goal is to beat them back, from then on, the real fight starts. We’ll need to create chaos and a fear factor within their base. If their own people don’t trust them to defend them, they won’t support them in this and may even try to leave of their own accord, reducing their numbers and stability bit by bit. But for now, focus on this first fight.”

“What do we do if they go around to the back?” Big Tiny asked, unable to shake an uneasy feeling.

“If they go around to the back, the fence may be down, but they’ll have to get through all those walkers. No way we won’t hear ‘em coming.” T-Dog said.

“Unless they use knives or silencers.” Maggie pointed out, biting her lips as she leaned against the far wall with her arms crossed over her chest.

Eve nodded, having already considered it yesterday. “We need to know how bad the breach is and where, if possible. The four of you,” She pointed at Glenn, Carl, T-Dog, and Big Tiny. “Head down to the tombs and scout it. If you can seal the breach, do it, but don’t take any risks. If there’s too many or you can’t find it, I have other ideas.”

“We could take a car and scout the other side.” Glenn proposed and Eve nodded, thinking the same.

“For now, let’s get started on our fortifications and finding this breach. We don’t have a lot of time to lose.”

A round of nods circled the room and Eve began assigning jobs to people before half the room had departed, like a colony of worker ants. It wasn’t that far from a scramble but at least it wasn’t a blind scramble.

* * *

“Smells to me like the Saw Hatchet creek.” Merle walked in front of Daryl, stepping over logs and ducking under branches, crunching leaves, and snapping twigs under his feet.

“Nah we didn’t go West enough. There’s a river down there, it’s got to be the Yellow Jacket.” Daryl refuted.

“You have a stroke, boy? We ain’t never even come close to Yellow Jacket.” Merle retorted.

Daryl resisted the urge to roll his eyes. That shows how much attention Merle’s been paying to him. Asshole hasn’t even seen him looking at the compass Eve gave him every so often. “We didn’t go West. Just a little bit South. That’s what I think.”

Merle scoffed. “Know what I think? I may have lost my hand, but you lost your sense of direction.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Daryl groaned, finally getting used to not looking behind him to make sure Eve is still following. Normally he’d be able to hear just a little bit but with Merle stomping he can’t hear anything, so he keeps forgetting she’s not here.

“What do you want to bet?” Merle got excited.

“I don’t want to bet nothin’. It’s just a body of water. Why’s everything got to be a competition with you?” Daryl asked rhetorically, not bothering to disguise his agitation.

“Whoa, whoa. Take it easy, little brother. Just trying to have a little fun here.” Merle waved his hand. “No need to get your panties all in a bundle.”

A sharp but far off cry caught Daryl’s attention and he stopped. “You hear that?”

“Yeah. Wild animals gettin’ wild.” Merle answered.

“No, it’s a baby.” Daryl immediately recognized the sound. He should, he’s been hearing it every day for a while now.

Merle gave him a withering look. “Oh, come on. Why don’t you just piss in my ear and tell me it’s rainin’, too? That there is the sound of a couple coons makin’ love sweet love, you know what I mean?” Merle laughed and Daryl ignored him, going towards the noise.

Running a short distance through the trees and they hit a shallow riverbank. Daryl’s eyes locked on the bridge going over the almost empty creek, where all the noise was coming from, gunshots and baby cries and shouts in Spanish joining the mix.

Merle whistled beside him. “Hey! Jump!”

Merle laughed and Daryl shot a disgusted angry look at him and headed back up the bank.

“What? Hey, man, I ain’t wastin’ my bullets for a couple of strangers that ain’t never cooked me a meal or felicitated my piece.” Merle called, following him as they made their way towards the closer end of the bridge. “That’s my policy. You’d be wise to adopt it, brother.”

Daryl didn’t hear a word he said, already near the top of the bridge and watching out for walkers but all of them seemed to be drawn towards the center of the bridge where two guys were standing on the back of an empty semi’s bed.

Debris was littered all over the road and a few abandoned cars, but there was a red car in the center, surrounded by walkers trying to get in and a few trying to get the two men on the truck. Even at point blank, the man shooting an older revolver could barely hit the walkers vying for their ankles.

Daryl followed the walkers around the front of the semi just as the man tossed his empty gun and dropped the one onto the street that the other had just handed him, a walker getting a hold of his leg and the two struggling to pull it free.

The man fell back onto the truck the second a bolt sailed through its skull and the walker spun from the force as it dropped.

Daryl dropped his backpack and shot another walker, pulling the bolt out of its head, stabbing it through the head of another walker coming from his side, having followed him around the semi.

“Come on, man. I’m tryna help you out. Cover me!” Daryl yelled at the man. He made getting to the red car his priority, hearing the desperate cries from the baby inside.

Merle watched in disbelief, lazily following the walkers to watch his brother.

The man jumped off the back of the truck, grabbing the gun and started shooting the walkers behind them while Daryl reloaded his crossbow and shot a walker off the front windshield, reloading again before shooting the other one.

He ran to the side of the car and smashed the head of the one at the driver’s side door just in time to see the lady inside turn around, screaming and crying.

A walker was climbing through the open hatch-trunk over piles of stuff and had nearly reached the woman and her new-born baby in the driver’s seat.

Daryl ran to the back, quickly dropping his crossbow by his feet and grabbed the walker by the shirt with both hands, dragging it out.

It immediately turned its attention to him but in half a second, he’d slammed the trunk door on its head, effectively sealing the car to keep the lady inside safe.

He swiped his crossbow off the ground and moved around the other side, but it wasn’t loaded, and a walker blocked his path. Before he had time to think what to do, Merle lazily called out, “Daryl, I got you.”

Daryl moved back behind the car and a shot rang out, the walker dropping.

“Go!” Merle called, smiling like this is a game as he leisurely sat down and watched his brother run around being a hero.

Daryl backed up to them while he reloaded his crossbow, only having one arrow left for it and the Spanish man used his last bullet right as Daryl reloaded.

He had no choice but to switch to his fists as a walker came towards him while Daryl used his last arrow on another walker heading this way and didn’t notice, not recognizing the cries for help in a language he didn’t understand.

Daryl ran towards the hood of the red car and grabbed a bolt out of one of the walkers he’d already shot, rapidly reloading and dealt with the second to last walker on the bridge before he took a breath and finally realized the other guy was fighting for his life, hand to hand, with the last walker.

There was no time to reload, so Daryl dropped his bow and pulled his knife.

Merle sat, enjoying the show, not lifting a finger to help.

The man punched it and Daryl timed his attack before two long quick strides put his hunting knife through its skull like butter before he kicked it off the bridge.

Daryl finally put his hands against the cement rail, catching his breath as he watched the dead walker float downstream. The man beside him breathing wildly but it was finally quiet. No more baby cries, no more shouting, just panting.

Daryl straightened up, looking at the man who looked at him gratefully, before moving to retrieve his crossbow, glancing at Merle who’d walked past him to the back door of the car without giving it much thought.

As soon as Daryl had picked up his bow and started retrieving his arrows, he heard more Spanish and then a gun cock.

He looked over and saw Merle aiming at the man over the backseat door.

“Slow down, beaner. That ain’t no way to say thank you.”

Daryl took slow steps on the other side of the car, confused but cautious about what Merle’s doing.

The man spoke more calmly at Merle but neither of them understood a word of it.

Daryl glanced at the man, still subtly moving so that he’s on the same side of the bridge as Merle, in case this gets ugly.

“Let em go.” Daryl told Merle from the other side of the car, but Merle scoffed, sneering but un-cocked the revolver and tucked it back into the front of his waistband.

“The least they can do is give us an, enchilada or somethin’, huh?”

Daryl’s used to his brother’s racist remarks but this time, it made his teeth grind until his jaw began to ache.

Merle ducked into the backseat, digging around. “Easy does it, senorita. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

“Ey! Ey!” The younger of the two men, who’s been staying out of the fight until now called but the other man waved him off, saying something to him.

Daryl came around the back of the car finally, looking at the two of them.

The Spanish man gave him a look like he was reluctant to let this happen but was too grateful to Daryl for helping them to stop Merle. But it was a look Daryl couldn’t stomach. He looked at Merle’s back and glanced between him and the Spanish man before taking a quick breath and took up his crossbow.

Daryl tapped Merle’s back with it. “Get out of the car.”

Merle’s movements stopped.

“I know you’re not talking to me, brother.” Merle hesitated but started riffling around again.

Daryl looked at the Spanish man and nodded to the car, even knowing he probably won’t be able to understand him, he still said it. “Get in your car and get the Hell outta here.”

They stayed put, not knowing what to do.

“Go! Get in your car!” Daryl shouted and the two men flinched but got the message and went around the other side as Merle looked back at him from inside it.

Daryl locked eyes with his brother, anxious but not joking around. He steeled his eyes, so Merle knew it too.

Merle was angry, that much was obvious by the way he’d jutted his jaw forward, his whole face scrunched like he was barely holding back a snarl, but he got out and closed the door.

As soon as he did, the car backed up and within a few seconds the people were gone.

As they drove off, Merle glared Daryl down like he stole his girlfriend. As if Merle would ever have one of those to steal.

Daryl grabbed his stuff and walked off the bridge and as soon as he reached the forest again, Merle was on his heels.

“The shit you doing, pointing that thing at me?” Merle marched behind him, close enough to almost step on the back of his shoes.

“They were scared, man.” Daryl sighed, tired of having to argue with Merle about everything.

“They were rude, is what they were. Rude and they owed us a token of gratitude.”

“They didn’t owe us nothin’.” Daryl stated. He did all the work; Merle’s got no right to look for compensation for that one bullet he used.

“You helping people out of the goodness of your heart, even though you might die doin’ it, is that something your Sheriff Rick taught you?”

Daryl snapped and spun on his heel. “There was a baby!”

“Oh, otherwise you would have just left them to the biters, then?” Merle stared him down and Daryl decided in that moment to stop arguing around this, no more of Merle’s thinly veiled pot-shots about what he’s really angry about.

“Man, I went back for ya. You weren’t there. I didn’t cut off your hand, neither. _You did that._” Daryl pointed at his hand. “Way before they locked you up on that roof. Man, you asked for it.”

Merle scoffed, in complete disbelief. He paced around indignantly.

“You know— you know what’s funny to me? You and Sheriff Rick, are like this now.” He held his fingers up, crossing the first and the middle.

“Right? I bet you a penny and a fiddle of gold that you never told him, or that woman of yours, that we were plannin’ on robbing that camp blind.”

“It didn’t happen.” Daryl grumbled. He’s not proud of going along with Merle’s plans back then but he hasn’t been that person in a long time, and the winter changed him for good.

“Yeah, it didn’t. Cause I wasn’t there to help you.” Merle shamelessly claimed credit.

“What, like when we were kids, huh? Who left who then?” Daryl retorted, face to face, not even noticing how quickly the argument was escalating.

“What? Huh? Is that why I lost my hand!?” Merle shouted at him.

“You lost your hand cause you’re a simpleminded piece a shit!” Daryl yelled back before turning to walk away as fast as he could before this can turn into a screaming match, but he didn’t anticipate his brother’s reaction.

Merle’s anger exploded and before he could blink Merle shoved him, grabbing hold of his shirt.

Merle yanked him so hard there was the sound of fabric ripping as Daryl’s knees hit the dirt, his backpack falling off his shoulder and dropping his crossbow to catch himself on his hand.

Then inexplicably Merle froze and half a second later it dawned on Daryl what that sound was. The hot Georgia breeze hit bare back, but it felt colder than ice to him.

“I— I didn’t know he was—” Merle stammered but couldn’t finish his sentence. All his anger gone in a puff of smoke.

“Yeah, you did.” Daryl tried to pull his torn shirt back up but gave up and just pulled his backpack back on to cover. “He did the same to you.”

“That’s why you left first.” Daryl grabbed his crossbow and the fallen bolts on the ground before standing up.

“I had to, man. I would’ve killed him otherwise.”

_This was a mistake._ Daryl stood up, desperately wanting to see the only person he feels at ease with.

“Where are you goin?” Merle called and Daryl turned.

“Back where I belong.” Daryl answered without hesitation, struggling to keep the emotion out of his voice but mental and physical exhaustion dragged it back in.

“I can’t go with you. I tried to kill that black bitch. Damn near killed the Chinese kid.” Merle called helplessly.

“He’s Korean.” Daryl refuted.

“Whatever.” Merle shouted. “Doesn’t matter, man. I just can’t go with you.”

Every word hit Daryl’s eardrums like the thousands upon thousands of excuses Merle’s used in the past to excuse his actions and behavior. It didn’t matter how legitimate it might have been, it was still an excuse, and Daryl’s done with those.

An exhausted, emotional sigh left him. “You know, I may be the one walking away, but you're the one that’s leavin. _Again_.”

Daryl walked away.

Merle watched him disappear from sight and turned looking at the empty forest around him.

The only thing that’s ever been able to make him feel guilt or want to be different than he is, the only family he ever had and the only living thing he gave two shits about, walking away after everything they’ve both gone through to find their way back to each other.

Merle knows better than anyone how much of a prick he is, but contrary to popular belief there is one thing that he does give a shit about.

“_Damn._” Merle turned back around and followed him. To hell if he’s just gonna let his baby brother walk away and go back to that place the Governor is breathing down on, on his own.

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	181. Chapter 181

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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“I’ll take Maggie.”

“You sure she’s up to that?” Hershel asked but it sounded more like he was telling him to rethink.

After a moment Glenn nodded. “If she’s not, I’ll bring T-Dog.”

T-Dog nodded in agreement.

Eve nodded and began assigning people to teams for each task. Five minutes later and everyone was off doing what they should be, and Eve walked past Maggie’s cell and paused, the corner of her mouth quirking up as she watched Beth giving Judith to Maggie.

With that warm little bundle in her arms, the cloud of gloom hanging over Maggie lightened. It almost looked as if the room itself was visibly brighter.

Beth looked over her shoulder, feeling eyes on her and smiled at Eve; for once not getting a jump start when she’s been snuck up on.

The quiet woman gave the smart teenage girl a quick wink and a thumbs up before leaving them to bask in baby Judith’s healing presence, which she herself experienced last night. Maternal instinct is an incredible, terrifying power.

Eve followed T-Dog and Glenn as they went out and reluctantly passed her truck keys to Glenn.

She put her hand on his shoulder with a meaningful look and Glenn nodded. “I know. It’s just around back. We’ll be careful.”

Eve nodded and waved them off as they went to the truck and Carl opened the first gate for them. They’ll have to open the outer one themselves, seeing as no one is guarding down there right now, all their manpower is tied up elsewhere. That’s part of why Eve went to the guard tower immediately, to see Randall, who has been keeping watch as usual while everyone was inside.

Sometimes she feels a little guilty that he’s always on watch duty, but he seems to enjoy it, if not then she really couldn’t fathom why he always volunteers to do it.

Randall looked over when he heard the steps and nodded when Eve emerged from the stairwell.

After greeting her, Eve stood next to him in the tower, a few feet from the railing and filled him in on the plan. When she was finished, Randall nodded. He looked hesitant for a moment, like he was debating whether he should tell her something and then pointed to the far fence.

“I saw you come back this morning, I guess you went hunting or somethin’. But Rick’s been out there almost since you came back. I’ve been watching him walk over that bridge into the forest and back for almost an hour.”

Eve narrowed her eyes at the figure where Randall pointed. She mistook it for a walker before but looking closer, the black automatic rifle hanging from its back was indicative. It is indeed Rick, but what’s he doing out there?

Eve’s eyes moved to the other figure standing at the fence on the inside and seeing the crease in her eyebrows Randall confirmed without even being asked.

“Hershel went down there a few minutes ago.”

The two of them watched the men at the fences, tacitly guessing what they could be talking about.

Hershel hobbled up to the fence, grasping it with his fingers and called as quietly as he could get away with, “Rick!”

He had to call a few times but eventually Rick came back from where he’d just gone into the forest and crossed the little wooden bridge, coming back to the fence, looking around his surroundings.

“You know I wouldn’t have hobbled all the way down here if it wasn’t important. Are you coming back soon?”

Rick didn’t answer.

“Eve’s got a plan, but we need you to come back, Rick.”

“She’s got things in hand.” Rick dodged the attempt to get him to go back inside, looking behind him like there was something he needed to get back to.

“What are you doing out here?” Hershel asked, worry all over his face.

Rick stared off into the forest for a moment, before stuttering, “I… I’ve been— I’ve got...stuff. Out here. Stuff.”

“How much longer do you need?”

“I don’t know.”

“There anything I can help you with?”

Rick was quiet for a long time, so Hershel took his cue and turned to hobble back up, but just as he was about to leave, Rick answered.

“I saw somethin.”

Hershel turned and moved back to the fence.

Rick stepped closer, grabbing the fence with a dirt layered hand. “Lori. I saw Lori— I’m seeing Lori.”

“Look, I know it’s not really her. But there’s got to be a reason. It’s got to mean something, you know.”

Hershel recalled when he went to check up on Rick just after Lori’s death, when he was hiding out in the tombs. Hershel had found him answering and talking on an old rotary phone that wasn’t connected to anything. When he had asked him about it, Rick told him someone had called but when Hershel picked up the phone, it was of course lifeless, devoid of even static. No better than a paperweight.

Knowing this, Hershel asked, “Was it her on the phone?”

Rick nodded, glancing down, and decided to fess up about everything. “Shane, too. In the town.”

Hershel nodded, thinking for a moment before responding. “Do you see them now?”

Rick looked up at him from under his lashes, like a kid gauging whether they’ll get in trouble for telling the truth and shook his head before looking around again like he’d heard something.

“You’re looking for them.” Hershel stated but it was more of a question, inquiring whether his guess was right.

Rick surprised him by looking at him firmly for the first time and with a calm resolution Hershel hasn’t seen from him in a while, he said, “I’m waiting.”

“For what?” Hershel kept his tone light but shook his head, not understanding.

“I don’t know. Something.” Rick looked down, thinking before letting go of the fence and kept his hand up, an open palm like he was telling someone to slow down. “There’s an answer.”

Rick swallowed, touching the fence lightly like he was gonna fall over from thinking too hard and then rubbed his eye with his thumb, exhausted and worn down to the bone. With dark eyes sunken into his skull, his skin covered in dirt and sweat he looked so much older and so tired. “I know it doesn’t make sense. Well, it does. It can make sense. I mean, I think in time it will...make sense.”

Rick nodded to himself as he went on, trying to affirm it to himself. A part of him knew that what he was seeing and doing didn’t make sense but that’s the part he couldn’t figure out. It had to make sense somehow, he’s trying to find an answer — he knows it’s there he just… doesn’t know the question it’s answering yet.

“Rick. Come on in. You need rest. It’s not safe out here.” Hershel tried to coax him, and Rick looked away like he’d heard something behind him again, like someone was trying to talk to him from another room and he was trying to hear.

“I can’t. I can’t.” Rick whispered before walking back towards the forest.

Seeing Rick walk off, Eve looked down another heavy sigh in her heart. It’s painful to watch a friend go through this but he can’t be out there right now. Even if he could handle himself against walkers, with a fight looming on the horizon, she can’t let him wander out there. So, she moved back into the tower, heading for the stairs.

The others in the courtyard, preparing some stuff to go out and start on the traps shared her sentiments, watching the scene from a distance. Even Michonne from her place at the prison bus had watched.

Axel, who has been getting close with Carol while the two have been setting up the metal and wood pallets on the over-bridge fences for most of the day, nudged her as he came up next to her in the yard where they haven’t started on reinforcing the fences yet. “Stress. Gettin’ to your man, Rick.”

“Can you blame him?” Carol replied in sympathy, stretching her neck trying to see Rick better as he walked to the forest again.

Axel replied, Big Tiny coming up to stand next to them. “Nah. In here, I’ve seen plenty of dudes crack. But not me. I got on better on the inside.”

Carol and Tiny both looked at him.

“There were rules. Things made more sense. Life was more…simple.”

Tiny nodded, understanding but Carol’s forehead creased, recalling a story Axel told her earlier about how he really wound up in prison. He said he was in for pharmaceuticals but that was just because he didn’t want them to think he was a violent man and at the time he said it, you really couldn’t blame him for lying. The real reason he was here though, Tiny had already known, in fact he was the only one aside from Oscar who knew. He was here because he robbed a gas station with a water pistol that never left his pocket, and the cops found him at his brother’s house the next day but didn’t believe that he’d used a water pistol, so they searched his brother’s place and found his 38. As Axel put it: there you go, armed robbery.

“Didn’t you miss your brother?” Carol looked at him.

“My brother?” Axel laughed. “Hell no. He had a real problem.”

Carol looked away again with a somewhat judging expression. “What kind of problem.”

“He didn’t lend me any.” Axel playfully nudged her elbow with his and both Tiny and Carol simultaneously snorted, languid but appreciative of the poor joke.

Then a gunshot rang out.

Randall cried out as pain exploded in his leg and Eve whipped around and shot forward, but she wasn’t fast enough to catch him as Randall dropped to the ground. The rifle clattering against the metal floor.

The people in the yard below scattered, running for cover as more shots pierced the sky, raining like a hailstorm around them.

The simple little wooden-path bridge Rick was standing on exploded in shards and dust as bullets pelted it and he ran, diving for the ground on the other side at the same time as Hershel dropped to the ground.

The tall grass provided enough concealment that thankfully nobody fired on Hershel, but the gunfire was near enough to Rick and from far enough away that stray bullets still whooshed into the ground nearby him.

Maggie heard the gunfire inside and within a minute she made sure Judith was safe and ran out of the prison grabbing 3 massive automatic guns and whatever else she could carry, rushing outside to bring them to those in the courtyard who she knew weren’t carrying.

However, she only managed to hand over two — to Beth and Carol — before they were also fired on and forced to take cover behind whatever they could in the upper yard. She had to wait for a break in the spray of bullets before she could toss one gun at a time to the others, or risk running from her position to them.

Eve’s knees hit the metal in a flash and helped Randall turn over, and blood gushed from a hole the size of a penny in his outer thigh, but in his leg sealing the hole was the bullet.

In a heartbeat she tore off her jacket, pulled her knife and cut the hem of her shirt into long strips, tying piece after piece of it around the wound trying to slow the bleeding. Her hands quickly caked in blood, ears filling with screams and gunfire and shouts, but her focus hardened like she couldn’t hear a single thing until the wound was dealt with.

Once she stopped the bleeding as best she could, she grabbed the rifle with blood-slick hands and got on her stomach sticking the end of the barrel underneath the last bar of the railing, to snipe at the Governor’s forces.

She searched through the scope for the man, but she only just found him when a bullet hit the metal right beside her and sent a spray of sparks into her face, forcing her to roll and get back.

The only way they could’ve hit her from that position is if they were in the other guard tower right across from this one. She risked getting a look and sure enough a sniper of their own stood at the rail in the other tower, raining bullets down on the others in the courtyard below.

Eve growled under her breath and checked the rifle, before quickly stepping out and shot at him. At the same time, Maggie below started shooting at him too, and one of them managed a kill shot; though it was impossible to determine who.

While they were occupied, a truck that looked like a big unmarked ice cream truck crashed through the front gate, ripping both fences off without even being slowed down. It swerved through the grass before abruptly coming to a stop in the center of the field.

A long moment of ominous still passed as Eve got back down on her stomach and looked through her scope at the van. Her stomach churned as it tightened further and further the longer nothing happened.

She looked at the driver seat, but the van was heavily armored and she couldn’t see the driver through the thick grate that looked like it was haphazardly just slapped over the windshield. She checked her clip and ground her teeth. She doesn’t have the rounds to waste on random fire on the off chance one will get through and kill whoever is inside.

The back of it suddenly dropped open, and Eve’s heart leapt into her throat. Walkers came pouring out by the dozen until there must’ve been 30 corpses invading the field, and more walkers were already wandering through the destroyed gates, drawn by the noise and excitement.

Eve had no time to worry about the Governor anymore, Hershel and Michonne were both undefended in the field.

The first shot killed a walker heading in Hershel’s direction before she noticed the driver hop out of the car and make a break for it, shooting at Michonne as he ran past her.

_Like Hell you’re getting away._

Amber eyes fixed on the back of the man’s covered head and the moment he was in her sights, a bullet ripped through the back of his helmet. Even the military grade protection was utterly useless against the bullet that went in like a dart and came out the other side with enough force to rip his entire face off, along with the protective goggles he’d been wearing.

Brain matter and fragments of his skull scattered across the dying grass like bird food, freeing Michonne to unsheathe her sword and make a mad dash through the field with the blade held high, to get to Hershel as his own gunfire was drawing the released walkers closer to him.

Eve tried to shoot the Governor after that, but his dirty white truck was already retreating. She only got off one more shot before the rifle bullets ran out. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway; the trees obstructed her line of sight. They got away.

Eve punched the metal baseboard and bruised her hand to hell in an instant, but then her own truck came racing down the road and drove straight into the yard.

T-Dog leaned out the window shooting walkers as they got to Hershel and Michonne in an instant, and Randall cried in pain behind her, forcing Eve to let go of her frustration at missing this chance to end things here and now, and focus on Randall’s leg which was bleeding even more fiercely than before.

The others in the courtyard threw the upper gate open and covered the truck while they rescued Hershel & Michonne and drove up, getting through the gate before it was slammed shut to protect their small meager bubble of safety once more and stare out at the ruin, like the farm or the disaster that claimed Lori’s life all over again. History repeating itself for the 3rd time.

Rick ran out of bullets for his big gun after one shot and barely even noticed as the fight raged before it came to a chilling quick close with the Governor’s forces retreating with their victory.

The gunfire had already drawn every walker in the area, and they staggered in from all directions.

He ran out of bullets for his python after killing only a handful and he tried to get back to the hole in the fence which wasn’t more than 30 feet from where he was but he was already cut off and had to go back.

The nearest walker forced him to kill it by bashing it’s head in with the empty python but there were two others that were too close. As soon as he’d straightened enough to raise his arm, he was pinned against the fence by a rotting corpse, and had to use his other hand to intercept another, using his arm like an arm bar against the struggling walkers.

With more closing in and his head muddled from too many thoughts, he blanked on what to do.

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	182. Chapter 182

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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Rick yelled as he struggled, trying to push the walker back before an arrow pierced the skull in front of him.

Daryl slid another arrow out as Merle rushed forward, yelling as he stabbed a piece of rebar through the skull of the one Rick arm-barred against the fence.

Rick didn’t have time to give it a single thought before another one came at him and he hit it in the face. Merle grabbed another one coming from his side and beat it to death with his metal stump while Daryl quickly reloaded.

Rick turned to face two more on his right and something in him that he hadn’t known was tense, relaxed as another bolt sailed through the closest one’s skull and let Rick catch his breath before he dealt with the last one.

As soon as the danger passed again, Rick met Daryl’s eyes and the two shared a nod. Then Merle’s ‘heheh’ behind darkened Rick’s mood in an instant. The grim truth of knowing he doesn’t have a choice but to bring him in this time.

The three of them turned towards the fence and stared heavily at the field that was already swarming with walkers, more streaming through the broken gate by the minute.

Daryl didn’t waste another second, heading straight for the opening in the fence and leaned his crossbow against the chain-link while he undid the cord binding the hole shut.

Merle sneered at Rick, “Nice to see ya again, _officer friendly_.” but other than that he was unusually quiet, not pushing his luck, which didn’t put Rick’s nerves at ease in the slightest but it sure as Hell gave Daryl’s a rest.

Once they got into the fence, they laced it up behind them quickly and made their way through the fenced path to the lower gate. Only a single gate standing between them and a space that used to be safe, now blocking their usual way of getting back up to the others.

They were right to keep all these individual gates locked even though it was a bit of a pain to unlock them every time.

“Go across and up to the other tower.” Rick and Daryl shared an understanding look, words weren’t needed between them for this, Daryl said them more for Merle’s benefit.

Rick unlocked the gate and closed it behind them as the three brandished their weapons and ran directly across to the other side. The brothers protected Rick while he unlocked the other side and slammed the gate shut behind them, locking it behind them as Daryl ran ahead on the enclosed path, up towards the other guard tower. A small pool of blood had gathered on the ground, dripping from above where the body of a gunman laid, his rifle having fallen to the ground.

Daryl avoided the puddle while Merle grabbed the rifle and Daryl got the outer door to the guard tower open as Rick caught up, also avoiding the puddle, casting a brief glance upwards to the source. As soon as Daryl got the inner door open and the three of them got to the safety of the upper courtyard, where the others were getting out of the truck they had just let through the gate.

Walkers lined the fence just like they had when the alarms had blared and flooded the place with walkers, scattering the group and had nearly claimed several of their lives.

Daryl’s eyes searched but were washed with confusion when he didn’t find who he was looking for.

“Is everyone ok?” Rick called and was met with a round of nods and yeses and an ‘I think so’ from someone.

The only person who obviously wasn’t ok was Tiny. He sat on the metal bench in the yard, sweat rolling down his forehead and expression twisted in tremendous pain, holding tight on his arm where Carol had used her outer sweater as temporary gauze to tie over the gunshot wound in his upper arm. Axel stood next to him, not knowing what to do but trying his best with words like, “Hang in there, Tiny. The old man will fix that right up.”

Hershel had yet to take a look at it as he had just been rescued from the field along with the others but just as he was about to, a sudden shout rang like a warning bell from the top of the guard tower.

“_Hershel!_”

Daryl recognized Eve’s voice in an instant and T-Dog barely managed to rip the guard tower door open before a blue streak ran past him and bolted up the steps — three at a time.

Daryl’s stomach leapt into his throat as he rounded the corners until he reached the door at the top and ran into it at full speed, the door banging before he was able to rip it open.

He ran out into the enclosed part of the upper tower and his feet froze in their tracks by the sight of Eve on her knees on the ground, caked in blood up to her forearms, her jacket clamped tightly between Randall’s teeth, putting all of her weight on his leg. Her shirt looked like the bottom half had been through a shredder, just barely enough left intact to reach the end of her sternum. The rest in pieces, strip after strip of the old cotton tied around the gushing wound on Randall’s leg, soaking with more blood and becoming heavier by the second, making the already dark cloth an even more abysmal black.

Eve looked up at the door and her shoulders, tense up to her ears, dropped. “Daryl.”

Her eyes stung at the sight of him, lost in the tide of relief, but she quickly reigned it in as warm sticky blood gushed between her fingers.

Daryl dropped next to them on the other side of Randall and Eve glanced back at the young man’s paling face.

Daryl quickly pulled the jacket out of his mouth, “What’s your blood type?”

Randall cried in pain as soon as the leather was gone, before managing to get an answer through grit teeth, “O negative.”

Eve sighed in relief for the second time. _Your luck is out of this world, kid._

Daryl shared a look with her, and Eve nodded, knowing that he’s aware of her blood type.

“Hang on.”

Just as he spoke, several others came out of the stairwell and quickly ascertained the situation.

Daryl and Rick worked together to pick Randall up and Eve ran down the stairs, jumping down 4 at a time until she reached the bottom and immediately told everyone to get inside.

At the sight of her covered in blood, their first thought was that she was the one injured but before they could ask, pained cries echoed in the stairwell behind her.

“Where was he hit?” Hershel guessed straight away who it was, he’s familiar with those specific cries.

“The leg. He lost a lot of blood.” Eve helped Hershel move quickly inside while Glenn, Beth, and Maggie ran for the medical supplies and hurried to set up a makeshift operating theater.

Eve didn’t even notice that Merle was here too until they got Randall inside and they passed by him and Rick to get into the cell-block.

Hershel ordered everyone out except for Maggie and her, to be his assistants and Eve quickly glanced at Daryl who nodded straight away without even having to wait for that look, he already knew. “I got it, go.”

Eve nodded gratefully and returned all her focus onto the matter at hand as the three took Randall “into surgery”.

Thanks to Hershel, Carol was able to determine Tiny’s injury could be managed until Randall’s was dealt with, and she went around dealing with cuts and minor bullet grazes that almost a third of the group had sustained.

Rick took charge again while Eve was indisposed.

Everybody was tense and at the sight of Merle, a huge fight broke out.

The shouting reached all the way into the inner cell-block and Eve glared at the doorway with half a mind to go maim them and come back, but she quelled the urge and stayed where she was needed without complaint; passing Hershel what he needed and giving Randall a hand to squeeze, someone to focus on.

It was an excruciating process because Hershel had to sterilize his hands and dig around in the wound a bit to determine whether the artery was hit. With this much blood, it came as a surprise that it hadn’t been, but it was a close call.

Randall squeezed Eve’s hand until his knuckles turned white, while Hershel stuck a needle through his skin again and again. Something he’s experienced before but had hoped to never have to go through again, especially without those pain meds. Thank goodness it was his bum leg or else he would’ve been in even more trouble.

It was a long, painful, and arduous process, Randall passed out halfway through, but eventually Hershel managed to stitch him up and the shouting outside had finally stopped. Either because of the group reaching a consensus or simply being too exhausted and strung out to continue. The latter more likely.

“I can’t decide whether or not this young man is the most fortunate or most unfortunate person I’ve ever met.” Hershel took a cloth handed to him by Maggie and cleaned his hands before wiping the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand.

Eve nodded as she took one as well and finally started to clean the blood off herself. She was covered in more red than Hershel.

She didn’t even need to open her mouth as she looked at him before Hershel answered the question, he knew she was gonna ask. “If he survives the night, he’ll be ok, but it’s too soon to tell whether or not his body can handle the shock. I’ll give him the last of the antibiotics in the morning if he pulls through but for now, Maggie, help me set up a transfusion.”

Eve finally sighed and tossed the bloody rag in the water bowl with the mountain of others (including the shreds of her own shirt) and took a seat, preparing her arm for the needle and the home-made blood transfusion kit that Hershel cobbled together.

Eve lost track of time, zoning out as she sat there holding Randall’s hand, and giving him blood until Hershel said it was enough and the two dismantled it.

Eve stood up slowly, more exhausted from the events of today than from the transfusion itself. She didn’t have to give as much as she had given Carl when he was shot, but it was still nothing to sneeze at.

Maggie rubbed her back as she helped her get to the door even though she was fairly steady on her feet. “Go on, go rest. I’ll have Beth make you something to eat as soon as I’m done here.”

Eve nodded and braced herself before taking the plunge into the cell-block, not looking forward to dealing with the aftermath of the attack but as soon as she stepped out, the whole room perked up and turned their attention, like they were waiting for her.

“If he makes it through the night, he’ll pull through.” she relayed Hershel’s words and the whole group relaxed for a moment before Axel spoke up anxiously, “What do we do now?”

Eve waved her hand at him in a steadying motion that told him to calm down and quickly addressed the unsettlement in the room. “They won’t attack again today.”

_They’ll probably wait to see if this will finish us off first._ Eve kept that part to herself.

They haven’t had a chance to calm down from what just happened, if they start this discussion off like this now, they’ll panic themselves into a frenzy.

The ambush was truly unexpected but in hindsight she should’ve seen it coming.

This time though she was willing to let herself off because so many things have happened in just a few days that her head was spinning like a top. The only reason it hadn’t fallen was thanks to its own torque.

“They hit us hard today but they’re gonna have to do better than that to get rid of us. Everybody go get some rest. T-Dog count how much ammo we have left. Axel, Glenn take watch. Stay out of sight, keep your heads low, take the rifles and don’t risk the guard towers. Stay close.”

The three of them nodded and dispersed.

“Carl, take stock of our medical supplies and bring me a list when you’re done.”

Carl nodded, knowing what to do and ran off after the other 3 who had just opened the gate where Merle is. Glenn glared at him like he’d enjoy nothing more than to tear his insides out and feed him to the crows but didn’t say anything after slamming the gate shut behind them and locking it, with his eyes fixed on Merle.

Eve sighed and looked around the room, noting that Merle was standing outside the closed gate door; that must’ve been their solution to prevent a fist fight, but she didn’t see Daryl.

Rick glanced up at the railing above her, knowing who she was looking for and she tilted her head back, finding blue eyes above her.

Eve finally stated, “We’ll talk about it after we know what we’re working with. Until then, treating the injured and finding out how much damage we took are the priority.”

The group seemed satisfied with that for now and dispersed to do like she said.

Daryl was filled with questions about why Eve was the one issuing orders but he saved them for later as Eve made her way up, dragging her tired feet to him like they were cemented in cinder blocks and crashed into him, her forehead landing heavily on his shoulder.

Eve wanted to ask, “Why weren’t you there?” but she was so exhausted she couldn’t even open her mouth. All the tiredness that she should have felt last night rushed through her like a fast acting poison and Daryl returning the embrace was the reason she stayed on her feet and at the same time was just another reason why she wanted to drop into a coma for the next 24 hours.

Daryl stood holding her tightly, finally able to relax himself. That persistent anxiety while he was with his brother melting away like a cold night being illuminated and warmed by a fire. He was content to simply stand there for an untold amount of time before the urge for a little more privacy started to prick them both.

It was unusual for them to show PDA (public display of affection) in the first place, but especially odd that they’d been content doing it for longer than just the heat of a moment. Rather than heat, it had cooled down completely and left only a sense of contentment that was frankly unbefitting of the dire circumstances the group is facing now.

A person can’t help how they feel. As opposed to the alternatives, this feeling is far more pleasant.

The two private people finally untangled and tangled their fingers instead before disappearing into the cell directly across from the area on the perch they’d claimed, Daryl pausing only to grab a spare shirt that had been hung over the railing next to him. He had already changed his torn shirt while Eve was with Randall, but hers was still in pieces.

Eve can’t tolerate being in enclosed spaces like this for long but with the cell door open and Daryl here, she found it rather pleasant actually. Like a little pocket just for hiding. Like that thunderstorm that had accompanied her through the night in the shed that made her afraid of small spaces in the first place. A comfort.

Eve quickly changed her shirt, realizing only after she’d put it on that it was one of Daryl’s and not her night shirt. Eve only has— had two shirts. She’s down to just one now.

Eve had turned her back to him as she changed, watching outside the door to make sure she wasn’t putting on a show for anyone. Normally she wouldn’t feel comfortable changing like this even in front of Daryl but with a sports bra instead of the weird clasp ones (eegh, uncomfortable), for some reason it made her less conscious of it.

Daryl’s eyes drifted up the curve of her spine that had long been exposed already to the scars on the back of her shoulder as she pulled the tattered shirt over her head, accidentally yanking her hair tie off in the process and scattering thousands of strands into her face.

Daryl looked down, realizing that he was staring and awkwardly cleared his throat, the tips of his ears turning red, but found his eyes back on her after just a few seconds.

Eve unceremoniously pulled the mess out of her face with a fast, practiced sweep of the hand over the crown of her head and let the hair tie roll onto her wrist, not bothering to redo her ponytail and just let it be for once as she turned around, buttoning up the shirt.

Daryl’s shirt was bigger than hers, obviously, but not as much as she expected. It hung like a larger t-shirt. Being a similar height definitely helped for it. Although, very much in keeping with his style, it had no sleeves, so when the two of them sat on the bed together and leaned back against the wall, their bare shoulders rested against each other.

Daryl finally remembered the question he’d shoved off after being distracted by how the yellow/black shirt made her eyes look like liquid gold.

“Did something happen while I was with Merle?”

Eve raised a brow in questioning.

Seeing her confusion, Daryl elaborated. “Before, you were tellin’ everyone what to do instead of Rick.”

Eve sighed, lowering her eyes to her lap. She totally forgot that Daryl didn’t know she had taken charge.

Daryl sat quietly and listened, his eyebrows furrowing every so often as she explained what happened as soon as they got back to the prison, about Rick’s outburst and wavering his gun around, chasing those other people out who had wandered in. Eve never even learned their names until after she’d dealt with Rick. It was scary seeing him snap like that. It’s not the first time in her life that she’d watched someone lose it but thinking about it now… watching it happen to someone she cares about; someone she’d call family… It was like being back with that older girl that she told him about before. The who used to cry herself to sleep in Eve’s bed when Eve was a child. When she had enough and decided to do something about it.

Taking that gun from Rick was as terrifying and resolute as when she heard the squeaky step on the stairs and stepped out of that upstairs bathroom to kick that man down the staircase.

Daryl noticed her unconsciously roll her shoulder and slipped his hand into hers again, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth as she looked down at it, the gesture grounding her back to the present.

Eve took a breath and finished explaining that she finally had to make good on a threat that she made a long time ago and took over in place of Rick. Daryl was confused about when she possibly could have made such a threat without him knowing about it but continued a different train of thought.

“You sure about this?”

Eve nodded and a beat of silence passed before she shook her head.

If anyone else had asked her that question she wouldn’t have bothered to correct herself but not with Daryl. She doesn’t need to do such things with him.

She leaned her head back against the wall, staring at the dull grey smooth concrete across from them in the 4x8 cell.

“I honestly don’t know if it was the right call.”

Daryl didn’t hesitate, speaking with complete irrefutable faith. “It was.”

Eve looked at him.

“Man just lost his wife and has been losin’ his mind for a while. He ain’t in no condition to fight a war.”

“You noticed too, huh? That this has gone way beyond just a fight.” Eve wrapped her arms around her knees, resting her cheek against them as she stared at Daryl, her dark hair falling like a curtain of black silk in the dimly lit cell.

Daryl nodded, unaware how long his eyes had lingered over her vaguely red hands. The contrast between her almost black hair and red hands made her face look ghostly pale in contrast, accentuating the dark circles under her eyes and the bruises that looked worse than when he’d left. He knows what she’d say if he mentioned it too. “Bruises always look worse before they heal.”

Daryl nodded and raised his hand to brush his thumb lightly on her cheek without thinking but didn’t care to retract it even after he noticed. Too deep in his thoughts, wondering how just a person’s presence could make him flip like a switch between anxious and calm.

It made it seem like the mild unease he felt outside the prison yesterday was maddening and he just didn’t notice how bad it really was until it was gone.

That’s not true. He had noticed. He had noticed how uncomfortable it was for it to be just him and Merle, and he will _never _forget what it was like feeling her absence in everything he did and everywhere they went, and how he spent all night rolling back and forth on the uneven ground unable to sleep. Ultimately using her trick of staring at the sky, at the stars that peeked through the canopy as the wind blew it around, until he finally fell asleep thinking about the first night they spent alone together. The night after Merle had gone to Atlanta with the others and he went hunting.

It took him so long to work up to asking her that one question. He had been thinking about it every time he saw her for days by that point. If Merle had been there, he might have thought about it for days more before asking her. Now he doesn’t have to think for very long at all to ask her things, and she gives him actual replies.

He noticed this a long time ago, but the less familiar she is with someone, the less likely it is that she’ll respond. It’s weird thinking about how he spent most of his life not knowing her and in one short year (give or take) it feels like there was never a time when he didn’t. He can think back on his life and imagine her being there so easily he can almost convince himself that she really was.

Eve stared at him and quickly turned her head, stealing a kiss from his palm. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

Daryl pulled his hand back and glanced down, the corner of his lip sneakily pulling up, and a mirthful little fire lit in Eve’s eyes watching that little smile and his ears turning red, it was unexpectedly child-like and out of nowhere she was hit with the overwhelming urge to make him smile like that again.

It is truly terrifying how many possible ways that she came up with in just a few seconds. She’s always been a little mischievous but sorry Snowflake, teasing you just became the absolute funnest thing in this adult-child’s life.

Is it weird that the end of civilization is the best thing that’s ever happened to her?

Before Eve could finish her thought, Daryl leaned over, pulling her head down and planted his lips against her forehead, one of the few places that she doesn’t have bruises.

When he pulled back, he looked at her like she was the sun & moon, and with a small smile spoke without an ounce of insincerity.

“Nobody said one person has to take on everything. We can handle it together.”

Daryl’s not good with words, he doesn’t have any fancy vocabulary, all that came to mind for the smile that pulled across her lips was that it was indescribably beautiful.

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	183. Chapter 183

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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Carol appeared at the doorway, smiling at the two of them as she leaned against the wall.

“I haven’t had a chance to say, I’m glad you came back.”

“To what? All this?” Daryl motioned at the cell that’s seen better days. He loves these people, but they can all agree that this place isn’t a 5 star hotel. It’s barely even a motel that you’d probably find a serial killer at.

Carol took a seat next to the bed. “This is our home.”

The corner of Daryl’s lip quirked up in slight pity for the sentiment. “This is a tomb.”

Eve pursed her lips, dead serious and eyes shining. “Does that mean we’re tomb raiders? Cause I’m fine with that.”

Daryl and Carol both snorted and Daryl knocked his shoulder against Eve’s. She beamed at him and the moment of light faded back into silence and Eve sensed that Carol wanted to talk to Daryl alone.

Carol is to Daryl as Glenn is to Eve. They’re together but they still have other people they’re close with, so Eve stood up and motioned at the door, letting him know she was gonna take her leave.

Daryl nodded gratefully — after spending a day with his brother, he’s even more grateful that they don’t need to speak to understand and called after her, “Let me know how the kid’s doin.”

Eve flashed another uplifting smile and waved to Carol before leaving. She’s got some stuff to do anyway, and like Daryl predicted, she wants to check on Randall.

Carol smiled after her and spoke up after they were alone. “He’s your brother, but he’s not good for you. Don’t let him bring you down.”

“After all, look how far you’ve come.” Carol motioned at him and at the door where Eve just left. She’s a remarkable person and Daryl helped her become it, just as she helped Daryl get to where he is today. It would break her heart to see him backslide because of his brother.

They shared a moment of tacit silence, both struggling to hold back smiles before they finally snorted. Daryl’s ears were a little red and Carol’s heart warmed at the little smile on his face.

Coming down the stairs, Eve found most of the group back from their tasks, Rick crouched over the bag of guns that has come just as far as they have but looking emptier than ever.

They nodded to each other in tacit understanding that it’s almost time to have one of the most important and difficult conversations of their lives: What should they do?

Eve went to Randall’s cell and found Hershel still inside. She nodded to him when he looked up and he got his crutches together to stand.

Randall was on the bed, breathing deep and slow, almost peaceful if it wasn’t for the layers of gauze on his leg and the drying sweat matting his fringe to his pale forehead.

The group was waiting for them already and Eve glanced up to see those upstairs leaning against the rails too, it seems everyone already understood to gather up once Eve came down here.

Eve did a quick headcount to make sure everybody is here, and she wanted to make this fast because they have no one on watch right now.

She doesn’t think they’ll be attacked again tonight; it would be odd and illogical if Woodbury decided to, but she’ll never accuse human begins of being logical again. They’ve been surprised once already; she won’t make the same mistake again.

Hershel updated everyone on Randall’s condition. “He’s asleep now but if he pulls through, it’ll take weeks for him to heal. Same with Tiny.” Hershel motioned at the big man whose arm has been properly stitched up and treated.

Eve waited until Hershel sat down on the stairs before starting. Their options are few and simple, but simple does not mean easy. She didn’t waste time by beating around the bush or using more words than necessary.

“We have three options. Majority will rule even though we’ll prepare for all three, but be advised, our decision could change at any moment when the cards start to fall. If it gets too hairy, I’ll pull the plug and we’ll abandon the prison.”

Everyone nodded, even Merle on the other side of the locked cell-block gate gave his undivided attention like a soldier to a commanding officer.

He ain’t stupid, he realized black cherry here is in charge as soon as they showed up here. When she took over the reins, he had no idea, but Daryl didn’t mention it, and before Daryl came with him, it looked like Rick was still in charge so who knows.

Eve looked around the room as she spoke, “We can stand our ground, take the fight to them, or flee.”

Nobody needed an invitation to give their thoughts on the matter and the first to get there was Rick, followed closely by Glenn and Hershel. Then the arguing of opinions began, as anticipated, while Eve stood quietly and listened.

They went back and forth for a long time, everyone expressing their opinions, their concerns, and most importantly their ideas.

In this circumstance, Eve personally was inclined to leave this cursed cinder block — or tomb as Daryl put it — but she doubts half the group will let this go, even if they make a clean getaway from this fight.

The four strongest voices in the room though were Rick & Glenn advocating to stay, and Hershel & T-dog advocating to leave.

“We can’t stay here.” Hershel punctuated for the last time.

“We’re not leavin’.” Rick pushed back.

“What if there’s another sniper? A wood pallet won’t stop one of those rounds.” Maggie made a good point.

“We can’t even go outside.” Beth joined.

“Not in the daylight.” Carol tacked on.

“We’re not running.” Glenn argued.

“Nah. Better to live like rats.” Merle sarcastically agreed.

“You got a better idea?” Rick sassed as most of the room's attention cast down that way.

“Yeah, we should’a slid outta here last night, lived to fight another day, but we lost that window, didn’t we?”

“I’m sure he’s got scouts on every road out of this place by now.” Merle leaned on the door with one elbow, his hand languidly dangling through the bars.

“We ain’t scared of that prick.” Daryl spoke up for the first time.

“Y’all should be.” Merle unexpectedly refuted in a serious manner. There aren’t many people that Merle shows any form of respect to but that alone was enough to prove how wary they should be.

Eve sighed, slotting her teeth together; not quite clenched but not relaxed either.

They’ve really made their nest out of brambles this time. However, Merle made a good point and Eve’s attention shifted to him, unexpectedly, waiting for him to continue. As if he needed an invitation.

“That truck through the fence thing, that’s just him ringing the doorbell. We might have some thick walls to hide behind, but he’s got the guns and the numbers, and if he takes the high ground around this place, _shoot,_” Merle shook his head, lip curling in disdain. “He could just _starve us out_ if he wanted to.”

“Let’s put him in the other cell-block.” Maggie angrily twisted the cloth in her hands, nervous and agitated but Daryl — who has clearer sight about his brother — refuted.

“No. He’s got a point.”

Maggie turned to face Merle and got louder as she spoke, almost to the point of shouting. “This is all you, you started this!”

“What’s the difference whose fault it is. What do we do?” Beth got tired of the merry-go-round they’ve been doing for the last ten minutes and looked to Eve.

It would be a lie if Eve said she hadn’t considered starvation and other factors like it. It’s why she wanted to take another look at their supply lists again. She disregarded the idea when she first thought of it yesterday, because she didn’t think Woodbury was that capable or had that many more cards to play but after this ambush, she wouldn’t put anything past these people. They’ll get pushed into an inescapable box if she’s not careful.

With that in mind, every consideration, speculation, and theory she dismissed was put back on the table. A single glance at this mental table and she had to withhold another sigh. There’s too many to consider, much less plan for. It’s too complicated, she needs to simplify the problem.

She needs a better idea of who she’s up against, she needs information. That means…

Eve’s eyes turned to Merle again.

Daryl took notice of Eve’s gaze and watched for a moment, seeing if he could read the gears turning in her head but it seems they’re turning slowly right now, and he wasn’t able to decipher it. He was able to see that it had something to do with Merle, which was unexpected.

Eve’s gaze unknowingly slid to the floor, the deeper she thought, the arguing getting more heated without her notice.

“I said we should leave. Randall and Tiny were shot, Randall was almost killed. We _can’t.just.sit.here_.”

“This place is like a maze of the dead. We stay here any longer, we’re gonna end up becoming part of it.” T-Dog agreed.

Eve’s eyebrows suddenly relaxed. _A maze of the dead..._

Eve looked up suddenly and patted her pockets before looking around.

“What do you need?” Daryl asked above her.

Eve tilted her head back and he almost didn’t hear her over the rising arguments.

“Notebook.”

Eve went for the stairs as Daryl quickly went around Carol to their sleeping area and dug into Eve’s bag, grabbing her notebooks and a pen.

As soon as he had them, he carefully tossed them one at a time to her over the heads of everyone on the stairs. Eve caught them in succession, the only thing she didn’t manage to catch was the pen and it bounced off her hand and rolled off. T-Dog picked it up quickly and handed it to her before she straight away sat on the floor and started writing.

By then several people — not including those involved in the heated arguments — noticed her madly scribbling, pausing to think every so often and twirl the pen around her fingers like a tangible representation of the gears inside her head. When the pen went faster, she was thinking, when it became slower it wouldn’t be long before she started writing again.

Daryl got down the stairs and stood above her, leaning over her with his hands against his knees and for the first time, he realized how _awful_ her handwriting is when she’s thinking too fast and not trying to make it legible.

He couldn’t recognize a single letter; he wasn’t even sure those _were_ letters.

Eve’s mind cycled through their options, coming up with and discarding plans one after another within a single thought. Not enough bullets, too many walkers, too many variables, too risky, not enough information, too many people, not enough cars, don’t know the area well enough, again not enough ammo, and so on.

The group finally reached one agreement while she scribbled away on the floor. Most of the plans they made yesterday are still usable, in fact if they had been in place before the ambush, they wouldn’t have been hit this badly.

Their mistake was underestimating Woodbury’s initiative. They didn’t anticipate the Governor taking the risk to attack so soon with the little information they had.

It was a damn risky play for them to just roll in like that, not knowing what they were up against on the chance that Glenn had lied about what he told them – which was more likely given that torture never gets credible info. They took the gamble though and unfortunately, it paid off for them.

At least Woodbury were forced to retreat before they got a chance to strike while the iron was hot.

As much as Eve hates to admit it, that crashing through the fence thing was clever.

Weaponizing walkers; twisted but effective.

They burned through most of their bullets this fight. Traps will certainly help but they won’t cut it anymore, and they’ve lost a lot of their advantages being caught unaware.

Eve rubbed her forehead with a deep sigh. Every good idea she’s had to discard seems to come down to one thing: not enough of _something_, and most of them are firepower and information.

Naturally, her mind steered towards answering that question.

Where and how can they get this stuff?

Eve ran her hands through her hair vigorously, scratching her scalp. The tip of the pen tapping the paper.

Several strategies for all their options stuck with her and she wrote them down, pros and cons lists. They were her best and brightest but all of them were lacking something, even if they were feasible there was a considerable amount of risk involved. Without more resources, someone would have to be willing to die to make these work.

Eve was a little shocked with herself as she realized that if this had happened while they were at the farm, she would have accepted the risk herself without much further thought, but now… she’s not willing to put herself in that position or let anyone take the risk.

She’s not sure when exactly she changed — when she became unwilling to take the gamble herself. She hasn’t lost faith in her abilities, she just...

She couldn’t help glancing at the man next to her, Glenn across from her and Randall asleep in the cell behind him, at the kids (Carl, Beth, and Judith) sitting on the staircase.

Inside she already knew the reason she wasn’t even considering taking the risk even though it seemed like the only way out of this, and it had nothing to do with her or her faith in herself.

That valuable lesson she learned from Glenn came back to her for the second time. You don’t die for those you love; you _live_ for them.

Eve has known for a long time that she would die for anyone, but she only just realized that she won’t _live_ for just anyone.

Whether she should be concerned for the lack of value she placed on her own life and what that meant about her own state of mind, was a thought for another day.

Seeing Eve’s mind consumed and the gears turning, Rick and Daryl both shared a look and nodded to one another.

It’s too dangerous to continue this, so they dispersed the discussion, and everyone who wasn’t really participating anymore — just listening — went back to what they should be doing. No one really had any complaints, they weren’t blind. They could see things were well in hand and that everyone who was still involved would keep working on it.

Eve’s behavior gave them some peace of mind. She wouldn’t opt out of listening if it were not important. It’s getting easier for them to tell when she’s got something because she goes into her own little world, barely aware of her surroundings.

Eve only looked up and noticed that people had left when Daryl tapped her on the shoulder.

“Come on.” He motioned at her, picking up her other notebooks and helped her up, moving her to the back end of the cell-block where only the few who were still involved in this discussion were gathering up to have a more civil discussion amongst themselves.

Eve didn’t feel good about tuning out of the whole thing when she had an idea, what with her new position of responsibility, but old habits die hard and it wasn’t like she was spacing out. Like Daryl said though, no one said she had to lead alone, perhaps the only real change necessary was bringing down the Ricktatorship and transferring the power of final say over to her.

A more than one leader system seems to be the most effective, looking back, that’s how they’ve made all their best decisions in the past. Too many voices clog the pipes, like they experienced with the debate over Randall’s life, but not enough voices led to Rick cracking like a walnut. It’s all about balance.

If you think about it, throughout history it’s worked the same way. Even monarchies still had advisors and courts to help rule and provide information to make decisions. The captain may decide their heading and steer a ship, but it takes a first mate and a whole lot of others to set sail.

Their little group runs more like a pirate ship than a governing body. They don’t have enough people for that, and they made the mistake of trying to use methods that are meant to manage _large_ groups of people, not small ones. Which is why it kept breaking down.

Why did she have this revelation seemingly out of nowhere? Only the heavens and the earth would know, but she’s glad she did. It shifted her mentality towards her position of leadership just enough that as she sat down on the other side of the staircase, the weight on her shoulders lifted a noticeable degree.

Nobody bothered her as she was thinking even though they were very curious as to what she had come up with. Whatever it was, it seemed complicated but for some reason instead of being intimidating, it gave one a sense of hope and surety.

A few minutes later Eve reached a standstill and with good timing, Rick came back from who knows where, followed closely by Daryl coming down the stairs behind her. She hadn’t even noticed that he’d gone up, but he no longer had the notebooks she wasn’t using in his hands.

“Fields filled with walkers. I didn’t see any snipers out there, but we’ll keep Maggie on watch.” Rick returned a rifle to the cell Glenn was crouched in before they both came over.

“I’ll get up in the guard tower, take out half them walkers, give these guys a chance to fix the fence.” Daryl suggested/volunteered.

“Or use the cars to put the bus in place.” Michonne suggested.

Eve immediately shook her head.

If they use the cars to put the bus in place they’ll really be trapped in here; boxed in of their own accord.

The turtle-shell method would indeed be incredibly effective in a place like this, but only if they were a snapping turtle, capable of defending it, not the squishy pet they are right now.

Hershel slowly shook his head as well. “We can’t access the field without burning through our bullets.”

“So we’re trapped in here. There’s barely any food or ammo.”

_Not necessarily. We can use the cars to get out if we need to. If we go slow enough, we’ll be able to bump walkers out of the way, **or** we could use Daryl’s motorcycle to zip between them and lead them out._ Eve shook her head to herself. _Too risky if the roads are being watched._

“We been here before. We’ll be alright.” Daryl absently said it, like it was a sure thing and the corner of Eve’s lip unconsciously quirked up.

“That’s when it was just _us_.” Glenn argued. “Before there was a _snake _in the nest.”

Daryl looked at him. “Man, we gonna go through this again? Look Merle’s stayin here. He’s with us now. Get used to it.”

“Hey.” Rick tried to step in and reach out to Daryl’s arm, but Daryl stepped away and continued.

“All y’all.”

Daryl went up the stairs fast, but Eve didn’t go after him. She looked at Glenn with disapproving eyes.

“Seriously, Eve. I don’t think Merle living here is really gonna fly.” Glenn was angry. He had every right to be after everything Merle has done to them.

Eve wouldn’t even humor someone by saying that Merle is not directly at fault for this mess, but it seems she’s the only one who remembers what he used to be like.

She’s never seen him even _try_ to get along with others, even if that just meant keeping his mouth shut over adding fuel to a fire. Yet she’s noticed several times now that he’s largely been keeping quiet. _Trying_ to play nice. It’s obvious that he’s aware he’s on paper thin ice here but he wants to stay. More precisely, he wants to stay with his brother.

It was alarming at first to see him not spraying lighter fluid over sparks and it would be a lie if she had said she wasn’t a little suspicious, but after watching him for a little while, she’s starting to figure out what’s going through his head. Thank goodness Merle isn’t the type who is good at concealing how he feels.

However, the problem at hand isn’t Merle and Eve has been aware of that from the start. The problem is Maggie. Specifically, what happened to her while they were imprisoned after _Merle_ captured them.

Eve doesn’t know the details, but she knows that that’s the real reason Glenn is upset.

Eve stood up and looked at Glenn seriously so he would know that she’s not taking his and Maggie’s feelings lightly. “We need him. He’s the only one who knows how Woodbury and the Governor operate.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to live with _Shane _after what he did to you and Rick.”

“Merle has military experience. He may be erratic, but don’t underestimate his loyalty to his brother.” Hershel backed her up and it seems he noticed Merle’s behavior too, despite never having met him before.

“What if we solve both problems at once?” Glenn proposed suddenly. “Deliver Merle to the Governor. Bargaining chip. Give him his traitor, maybe declare a truce.”

Eve shook her head. “He won’t let us go. He’s not the type.”

She looked Glenn solidly in the eyes, knowing he wasn’t thinking this through clearly, he was blinded by his desire to get rid of Merle and vent his anger on something. Get some sort of justice even if it’s small.

“Answer me honestly. Would you or Maggie be able to live with the knowledge that the Governor was still nearby, even if we declared a truce?”

Glenn had nothing to say. He looked down, clenching his teeth and fingers until both ached like they were going to crack.

“I know you want revenge. I know you want it so badly that you’re willing to take anything you can get right now, but nothing you do to Merle, whether he’s here with us or not, will be able to scratch that itch.”

“We’re in for a fight. This psychopath isn’t gonna honor any deal we put forth. Even if they offered us one, I doubt they would honor it. We kicked over the gas can when we moved into their backyard and Merle just so happened to be the spark that ignited it, but sooner or later _something _would have.”

“This isn’t a problem that’s gonna be solved by negotiating. If someone else oversaw Woodbury, then maybe, but we’ve seen how this guy operates. Merle knows he thinks, and thanks to Michonne we know the kinds of things he does. These are not the actions of a stable mind. Weaponizing walkers is one thing, but this Governor is even more erratic than Merle, and twice as ruthless.” Eve shook her head. “He won’t let this go even if we offered a complete surrender.”

Her eyes turned to the other end of the cell-block, where Merle was no longer standing at the gate.

She may not know exactly what to do right now, but she has an idea of how to figure it out.

She looked back to Glenn. “I know it’s not gonna be easy, and I’m sorry that I have to ask this of you but stay away from him for now. Right now, he’s of use to us. Once we deal with the Governor and Woodbury, we’ll talk about what to do with him.”

Glen clenched his teeth, glancing at Merle and then back to Eve. “You swear?”

Eve held up her pinkie. Glenn almost rolled his eyes, and the corner of his mouth would have quirked up if he weren’t so angry. Instead he wrapped his pinkie around hers and was satiated for now. Eve never breaks a promise, and she doesn’t make promises she can’t keep.

“Go cool off and then talk to Maggie. I know you’ve been fighting.”

Glenn’s eyes widened a little in surprise and Eve gave him a look, like really? The blind would have known things have been in a rocky spot since they escaped Woodbury. “Go. Work things out. I can’t stand your awkward vibes anymore.”

Glenn scoffed with more amusement than he thought he was capable of right now. With just this talk it felt like the lid had been cracked on some pressure pot. He was still steaming but he didn’t feel like he was gonna burst anymore. Not now at least.

Glenn left and Eve “dismissed” the rest of this conversation, motioning Rick & Michonne to come with her as she walked away. She has an idea she wants to run past him, but first she needs to go talk to Daryl.

“Meet me by the tombs, grab T-dog too.”

Rick nodded at her simple orders, knowing as soon as she had put her hand on the staircase rail that she was going to talk to Daryl.

“I’ve got to hand it to her. Woman’s good at putting out fires.” Michonne commented to Rick privately as they walked. Eve may have been talking to Glenn just now, but he wasn’t the only one who cooled off after that convincing little speech. Michonne’s never met someone so clear sighted, and from what she could tell, Eve’s not even angry that Merle also took her and got Daryl captured.

Michonne was mistaken in this though. Eve was angry, she just has far more tolerance and greater control over her emotions. Something that only comes with practice, and in this case, motivation.

For Daryl’s sake she will tolerate Merle, she’ll even carve out a space for him in the group no matter how difficult it is, but it’s doubtful that she’ll ever like the man. They don’t have the privilege of getting to choose who they live with anymore.

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	184. Chapter 184

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Eve went to find Daryl, but it seemed he had already calmed down. She raised her eyebrow but said nothing about it. Unaware that Daryl had heard her talking to Glenn just now. He felt a little bad that she is always playing peacekeeper, but it made his heart warm that she has his back even with this.

He wouldn’t blame her for being at Merle too, but honestly, he was a little afraid that she would have a problem with Merle being here too. He hadn’t thought it through when he came back with Merle, he was gonna stay in the area just like he and Eve had planned but they showed up in the middle of that fight so that flew out the window.

He’s had the same conversation with everybody here about his brother stayin’ with them at least twice, everybody except Eve. He hadn’t asked what she thought though. It’s been a whirlwind and part of him didn’t want to ask, afraid of the answer.

He was relieved now though, because now he knows where she stands. He still wants to know how she personally feels about it but that can wait until she’s got less things on her mind.

Gone no more than a day in total and he can see the stress on her face, in her eyes and shoulders, and the way she keeps sighing — or looking like she wants to. It’s a lot of pressure.

So you really can’t blame him for pulling her into a hug as soon as she came up to look for him.

Eve was oblivious to why he hugged her out of the blue but assumed it was just because he needed it. She returned the hug, silently grateful that she didn’t have to talk him down.

_Since when did his temper become so easy to deal with? I remember when it used to take half a day, some time alone, and a good threat to make him cool off._

It was a great comfort having someone to support you and tackle problems together even if you add to each other’s on occasion; Eve could be reckless, and Daryl has a temper but they work.

She leaned back to see his face but neither moved their hands from the other’s waist and shoulders.

Before she even asked Daryl gave her a chaste kiss and said, “I’m good.”

Eve observed him for a beat before nodding and glanced over the railing. “We need to talk to Merle.”

“About the Governor and the town’s set up?” Daryl guessed and Eve nodded.

Daryl was planning to bring it up since he’d been thinking about it, but Eve beat him to it.

Thus, Eve and Daryl went to talk to Merle, just as Hershel was leaving. It seems he came to talk to Merle and judging by the slight smile and the pleased creases near his eyes, it wasn’t a bad conversation.

Eve had a difficult time hiding her surprise, but they came over here for a reason, so she sat down while Daryl leaned against the wall next to her and got straight to the point. She wants to know everything the Governor’s ever done when dealing with another group.

Know thy enemy.

She got straight to it and asked about his character, what he’s like, how he is at leadership and strategy, how much his people trust him, their weaknesses, and vulnerabilities, etc. After a long conversation with a surprising lack of sarcasm on Merle’s part, Eve surmised that this guy is a bonafide sociopath.

Some of the things Merle told them about had her _very _concerned.

This guy was gutsy enough to take on a group of soldiers, the national guard no less, and actually won because he waved a white flag as he approached and got them to let down their guard before killing them all with hidden forces. For their weapons and supplies. Instead of trying to, I don’t know, _recruit _them to help protect the rather large settlement they’ve established.

Eve couldn’t help shaking her head with a sigh. So, he’s dangerous _and_ stupid.

Part of her scoffed at the Governor, and part of her scoffed even harder because if he hadn’t done that and Woodbury had added those soldiers to their ranks, then they would have been wiped out by Woodbury; assuming they managed to escape after being captured at all.

One should be so lucky to find a group of heavily armored, trained soldiers and this psychopathic asscake had them killed instead.

Eve ran a hand through her loose hair. That presents its own problems though, Woodbury now has all that artillery. She should be thankful the helicopter that went down — the pilot of which told them about his unit and where they were — was destroyed, or they’d be f**ked six ways to Sunday right now.

Now that Daryl and Merle have been — separately — informed that Eve took over the minute she got back after they departed, Merle regarded her with more respect. Not a lot, but enough.

Truthfully, he had the least amount of bad blood with Eve than anybody else in this group, and given her and Daryl’s relationship, as well as what type of person she is, she’s the most likely to cooperate with him.

In other words, he can’t afford to offend her as he has the others. He should thank his lucky stars that she knows her priorities. People like that are few and far between these days. As if they weren’t rare enough before.

Merle was still wary as he talked. He found it impossible to read her face or figure out what she’s thinking since the day they met. For all he knows, he’s on thin ice with her as well. It wouldn’t be surprising given what he did to her and the Chinese— er— Korean kid.

Eve was oblivious to Merle’s careful consideration of his position as she listened to him answer her direct, concise questions in detail, laying out basically everything he knew about Woodbury. As the Governor’s third in command and the one who took care of the dirty work, Merle knew a Hell of a lot more than anybody else about how deep the puddle of shit they’re in right now is and he was more than happy to share all the twisted things he (the Governor) gets up to.

Eve’s mood darkened the more the info clarified their situation.

She had to admonish herself in her heart, now that she has a better idea of her opponent. She underestimated the threat by a lot.

Right now… she found it a little difficult to continue priding herself on being prepared, cautious, and thinking ahead. Even if she wasn’t to blame for not being able to predict something like this, it was still a way bigger pill to swallow than they had realized.

Even though she had been cautious, it was her caution that may have held them back this time. Next time they’ll be quicker, she can’t afford to hesitate next time.

She wasn’t despairing though; they still have an advantage. They know what his group’s ranks are, but Woodbury doesn’t know theirs. The Governor doesn’t know what they’re capable of, but she now knows what he can do. And that anger of his that Merle described. The obsessive fixation on his vendettas… an idea slowly came to mind.

This Governor is the type to think he’s top of the food chain. Arrogant, gets high on power. He weaponized walkers but after a few minutes, she knew exactly what to do; all she’s gotta do is figure out the how.

Before Eve could ask another question, Carl came running into the cellblock from the outdoor caged overpass door above them and shouted, “Andrea’s here!”

_Andrea?_

Eve, Daryl, and Rick shared a look before everyone was scrambling for their bigger guns and running out, preparing for another attack.

At Eve’s commanding gesture, Glenn, T-Dog, Carl, and Michonne, broke off to go to their sniper positions, one on the caged overpass and two in the courtyard just outside the doors leading inside.

Eve gestured at the more vulnerable and injured members to stay in the cellblock and prepare for an assault, then gestured at Rick and Daryl and they took point with Merle as the rest of them moved into the courtyard.

“Go.” Rick gestured at Merle and like a practiced unit, Merle moved forward to the next position before calling back.

“Clear.”

The others moved forward in a militant formation towards the fence.

Eve glanced at their snipers and each one of them gave her a signal that it was clear, so she gestured for them to move towards the fence, moving right behind Rick and Daryl.

Rick called to the approaching blonde woman. “Are you alone?!”

“Open the gate!” Andrea called as she trudged up to it with a walker on a stiff metal lead in front of her that enabled her to walk right through the field of walkers, camouflaged as one of them.

“Are.You.Alone?!” Rick aggressively enunciated.

“Rick!” Andrea called back, almost desperate.

Eve’s eyes scrunched in thought at the walker Andrea used to walk herself in here, but nodded at Rick who tossed the keys to Daryl and Merle helped open and shut the gate within a second; just long enough for Andrea to release her captive walker, shoving it away, and step through.

“Hands up! Turn around now!” Rick yelled at her.

“What?” Andrea gasped in disbelief.

“Turn around!” Without hesitation, Rick pushed her against the fence.

Andrea screamed as a walker slammed into the other side right in front of her, fortunately Rick reacted fast and pulled her away but still forced her to kneel and Andrea was confused and shocked as he pulled her bag over her head and tossed it far away into the courtyard.

Andrea was confused, looking around at everyone she once knew like they were different people wearing her friend’s skins.

They brought her inside and Andrea almost immediately went to hug Carol, glad to see that she was ok. After they got separated at the farm, Andrea had no way of knowing whether Carol made it out alive, she had no way of knowing if _anybody_ made it until now.

Everyone positioned themselves around the room in a large circle, those who had guns rested them in their laps or by their sides or leaned on them if they were long enough.

Eve went over to Rick with Daryl taking a seat on the steel table behind her and muttered in a low voice, “Take point. Let her talk. Let’s get some answers.”

Rick understood that Eve doesn’t trust Andrea, because he doesn’t either, but Eve doesn’t want Andrea to know that she’s in charge now and take that information back to Woodbury. The less Andrea knows, the better. But they can also have some of their questions answered.

The rest of the group tacitly understood when Rick stepped forward like he used to as if he were still the leader, and Eve was watching quietly from beside Daryl, amber eyes exchanging subtle but meaningful glances with the others.

“After you saved me, we thought you were dead.” Carol whispered in relief to Andrea as the two hugged.

Andrea was about to reply when she saw Hershel over Carol’s shoulder and her eyes fell on the crutches and then his legs. “Hershel, oh my god.”

“I can’t believe this.” Andrea looked around as Carol stepped away, finally taking in the faces around her. People she never thought she’d see again. People she had no way of knowing if they were even alive.

She looked again, searching for the missing faces before looking at Rick. “Where’s Shane?”

The room fell into deadly silence; Nobody willing to bring up those memories, but their silence was answer enough for his whereabouts. Andrea wasn’t stupid.

“And Lori?”

Again, no answer. Until Hershel spoke.

“She had a girl. Lori didn’t survive.”

“Randall made it though. He was shot yesterday.” Maggie interjected.

Andrea was surprised for a moment before she whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

Her eyes landed on a child that was a little taller than she remembered but whose face was like stone.

“Carl.” she muttered helplessly. Other than responding to his name with an empty gaze, he said nothing, completely receptive to her sympathy. Andrea couldn’t help glancing at Eve, beside Daryl, who had the same impassive face as always and she’d have to be blind not to see the similarities in the two. Carl had unconsciously begun to take after her, and she didn’t know how to respond to that. She could never figure Eve out either.

Andrea turned her sympathy towards Rick. “Rick, I...”

He stepped back when she stepped towards him, his response even more avoiding than the others. Carol was the only warm reception she got other than a brief hug and “I’m glad you’re ok.” from T-Dog.

It gave her enough warmth to look again and try to put on a smile, even though it hasn’t exactly been what she imagined would happen when she saw them again.

“You all live here?”

“Here and the cell-block.” Glenn answered behind her and she turned to look at him.

“There?” Andrea pointed and Glenn nodded.

“Can I go in?”

“I won’t allow that.” Rick blocked her way before she had taken three steps.

“I’m not an enemy, Rick.” Andrea sighed helplessly. The cold reception was enough explanation about how everyone was feeling about her presence.

Perhaps it would have been warmer, had she been coming from _anywhere_ other than Woodbury.

“We had that field, the courtyard, until your _boyfriend_ tore down the fence with a truck and shot us up.” Rick may not have meant it to sound so accusatory but that’s how it came out and Andrea’s posture shifted accordingly.

“He said you fired first.”

“...”

“...”

Rick didn’t even know how to respond to such a blind-sheep statement. They had no reason to lie — she came to them, not the other way around.

In the end all he came up with was, “Well he’s lyin.”

“He shot an inmate who survived in here, and Randall is fightin’ for his life in the other room.” Hershel added to his charges.

Andrea covered her mouth with her hand.

“We like him. He’s one of _us_.” Daryl tacked on. Eve refrained from commenting, but she shared a meaningful look with him and glanced into the cellblock where Tiny was keeping an eye on Randall. He had volunteered to do it since his arm was in a sling and he couldn’t do much else.

“I didn’t know anything about that.” Andrea shook her head, curling her hand against her collarbone. “As soon as I found out, I came.”

She looked around, raising her voice to speak to everyone. “I didn’t even know you were in Woodbury until after the shoot out.”

“That was _days _ago.” Glenn admonished her; He was still angry and Andrea’s “case” so far wasn’t making it better. Maybe he was subconsciously blaming her, maybe he wasn’t, but to outside ears it certainly sounded like he was saying, “Where the Hell were you.” in not so many words.

“I told you I came as soon as I could.” Andrea refuted in a pleading tone, but she realized within a few seconds that it wasn’t working. Nothing she was saying was getting through to them, it was like they had all put up walls against her even though she’d done nothing. But that was precisely the problem in most of their eyes. They’ve been fighting with Woodbury, and she’s done..._nothing_.

Andrea turned around, fixing Michonne in a fierce glare. “What have you told them?”

“Nothing.” Michonne answered casually, her voice light like a feather with notes of delight and pride, because she really hadn’t told them anything but the truth and Andrea had been taken in by so many pretty lies and Woodbury’s picnic parties that she could no longer see past them. The world looks like a rosy place to her, she’s forgotten what it’s really like out here.

“I don’t get it.” Andrea dramatically looked, indignant and in her mind, she had every right to be. “I left Atlanta with you people and now I’m the odd man out?”

“He almost killed Michonne, he would have killed us—” Glenn tried his damnedest to talk in a level tone but the firmness was still influenced into something much sterner than he normally would have used. Yet Andrea ignored his tone completely and cut him off, pointing her finger at Merle.

“With his finger on the trigger! Isn’t he the one who kidnapped you? Who _beat_ you?”

Eve wanted to roll her eyes. Classic Andrea, start some shit because you feel wronged.

Realizing what she’d done, Andrea paused and sighed, taking a deep breath, trying to keep in mind her purpose in coming here. Despite the hostility she’s received, she still had a point to make.

Eve could see the wheels in her head turning and quietly shook her head. Andrea clearly doesn’t realize that she’s part of the enemy forces right now, who just strolled up to the fence and despite them having known each other and survived together before, her _boyfriend_ is currently the one trying to wipe them out and she’s standing here trying to stick up for him.

Failing to truly comprehend her position, Andrea cupped her hands over her mouth and let them fall in exasperation before continuing to try and salvage the situation.

“I cannot excuse or explain what Philip has done,”

Eve almost scoffed. _That’s a very intimate way of calling the person who attacked your so called “friends”._

“But I am here trying to bring us together. We have to work this out.”

“There’s nothing to work out.” Rick barely let Andrea finish her sentence before he spoke, stepping forward again after sharing another brief and subtle glance with Eve. “We’re gonna kill him. I don’t know how, or when, but we will.”

That was the one point that is non-negotiable, Rick didn’t need to look at Eve for this, not one person here was willing to let “_Phillip_” live.

The Governor is a murderer, the rules of society going back hundreds of years have _always_ been clear on what happens to murderers. People who kill other people without justifiable reason are too dangerous to keep around. The apocalypse doesn’t change that, in fact it makes it even more necessary to stop them sooner rather than later.

“We can settle this.” Andrea tried to stress. “There is room at Woodbury for— for all of you.”

The corner of Eve’s mouth twitched. _Funny how she was just complaining about being the odd man out, and then addresses us like she isn’t a part of the group. What a hypocrite._

Eve was trying to control her own bias, she’s never been partial to Andrea, and no, she never let go of the fact that she nearly _killed _Daryl back on the farm.

Eve unconsciously glanced at Daryl’s profile, looking at the very faint mark leading into his hairline. It’s almost unnoticeable under the layers of dirt and sweat but it’s there. The wound may have closed fast but it will take more than even several months before that scar fades. The only reason it’s so hidden now is because Daryl’s quite a bit tanner than he used to be and seems to enjoy having dirt on his skin.

This time, Merle was the one who couldn’t contain his remarkably similar thoughts and scoffed at Andrea’s misplaced optimism. He casually muttered loud enough for everyone to hear. “You know better than that.”

Andrea looked at him disdainfully.

Eve exchanged a brief look with Hershel and nodded, indicating that it’s his turn. They haven’t exactly practiced this sort of communication before, but it was surprisingly easy to manipulate the conversation’s direction just by signaling certain people to speak. She knows everyone’s temperaments well-enough to know who will ask what types of questions and in what manner. So, steering it while maintaining her anonymity as the one pulling the strings, was easier than expected.

Herschel adjusted his crutches and moved forward a little, being the voice of reason. “What makes you think this man wants to negotiate? Did he say that?”

Andrea looked up and as expected said, “No.”

Eve would have trusted her even less if she said she was here because _Philip_ sent her to “negotiate”.

Eve didn’t need to indicate to Rick this time, he was versed enough to ask the next question, “Why did you come here?”

“Because he’s gearing up for war.” Andrea answered before looking around. “The people are terrified — they see you as killers. They’re training to attack.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Daryl finally had to speak up, himself. Unable to stand listening to Andrea defend that guy when Eve’s slowly healing bruised face is right next to him.

“The next time you see _Philip_ … you tell him I’mma take his other eye.”

“We’ve taken too much shit for too long, he wants a war, he’s got one.” Glenn spoke up without prompt, also unable to stand it with Maggie standing so far away from him and the cause of that being the man Andrea’s trying to defend.

Getting nowhere with everyone else, Andrea turned her attention to Rick, still thinking he was the leader.

“Rick… If you don’t sit down and try to work this out… I don’t know what’s gonna happen. He has a _whole _town.”

Andrea turned looking at everyone.

“Look at you… you’ve lost so much already. You can’t stand alone anymore.”

Eve and Daryl shared a deadpan look and Eve couldn’t help thinking, “_Was that supposed to be an attempt to convince us _not _to fight? Does she even hear herself? We’re not stray dogs caught in a storm drain, sweetheart. We aren’t gonna join the people who _let_ Merle kidnap us, tried to get information out of us using the most despicable means they could think of, and tried to kill us — **multiple **times. Who are now trying to take the home we fought for from us too? Can you please take off your messiah goggles for a moment, hun? They’re fogging up your judgment.”_

Andrea always did try to play negotiator like the hot-shot lawyer she once was. But as admirable as it is, a lawyer is no diplomat, and she evidently doesn’t understand the difference.

“You wanna make this right, get us inside.” Rick stepped around her, getting right in her face.

“No.” Andrea immediately refused. “There are innocent people—”

“Then we’re done here.” Rick talked over her latter sentence and left the room, followed quickly by everyone else. It was clear that the discussion was over.

Andrea didn’t even notice that Eve gave a signal before Rick’s walk-out, and Eve quietly slipped off with Daryl while Michonne was the only one left to stand with Andrea, who walked out — Michonne languidly following — back to the courtyard out the side door so they were too deep to be shot at unless someone was inside the field of walkers.

Michonne couldn’t help a small sense of satisfaction. When Andrea chose to stay in Woodbury over her… That’s when she knew their winter-long friendship had come to an end but seeing her now, reaping what she sowed, it was hard not to take delight in it.

As Rick, Glenn, Hershel, Daryl, and Eve reached the tombs, where they won’t be overheard.

Rick finally stopped and turned, resting his hands on his hips.

“What do you think we should do with her?”

“It’s Andrea. Although we haven’t seen her in a while, we can’t just treat her like those who attacked us.” Hershel spoke in her defense.

Glenn hated to bring it up, but he had to. “She knows the layout of the prison now. We can’t just let her go.”

“She won’t stay.” Michonne came to join the conversation while Andrea went to Carol to meet Lil’ Asskicker.

“She knows our numbers now, if she goes back and tells her boyfriend, we’ll lose our edge.” Daryl chewed on his thumbnail, struggling to stand still.

Eve doesn’t think Andrea would deliberately put them in danger, but she has a history of not exactly knowing what she should and shouldn’t do or say. While it may not be deliberate, she doesn’t trust her not to let something slip.

They need to act as if the Governor knows everything that they don’t want him to.

After some careful thought Eve had grown tired of complicated things and made a decision that simplified it.

“Let her decide for herself whether she stays or goes. After that, we don’t owe each other anything.”

Eve was going to try to convince her to stay because they had been a part of the same group once and they could use her help right now, but after seeing her face as she was talking to Rick outside, Eve knew Andrea had already made her decision, so she just sighed and looked at Glenn.

“Go get one of the spare cars from the prison parking. Carl, get her bag for her.”

Both nodded and ran back in while the rest of the group made their way outside to the courtyard to say their goodbyes; minus those who didn't know Andrea.

A few minutes later, a brown car with a ‘corrections’ decorum on the doors drove out of the old barely used gate that holds mostly dead cars that belonged to the penitentiary before the turn.

Eve nodded at Rick behind Andrea, out of her sight.

“Can you spare it?” Andrea asked.

Rick nodded. “Yeah.”

It’s hard to say goodbye to a friend, especially one who is driving off to live in a hornet’s nest.

It’s highly likely that this could be the last time they see each other as friends.

Andrea took a final look around at everybody, only Daryl nodded as goodbye.

“Well take care.” Andrea got in the car and Rick handed her the keys.

As Rick stepped away, Eve came over and put her hand on Andrea’s shoulder inside the car, looking at her with a seriousness that Andrea wasn’t used to seeing.

“This is going to get rough. Be cautious. Take care of yourself.”

Andrea was almost speechless that Eve verbally spoke to her. After a long moment of shock, her heart warmed a little and she finally nodded. “You too.”

Eve leaned down and whispered so only the two of them could hear, “_Be careful who you trust_.”

The group finished sending her off and Andrea made her way back along the roads, but all while she was driving, she couldn’t stop thinking about what Eve said. How she said it.

Normally it would have sounded like advice, but from Eve, it sounded like a warning — like _she’s _in danger. The way she said it…. It made it seem like Andrea was going behind enemy lines, but she knows those people, she’s made friends, she’s part of the community, nobody would hurt her.

Even as she thought the sentence, she became uneasy.

She trusted that Eve didn’t say it to shake her up or to stop her. It was a legitimate warning, and Eve’s intuition has always been scarily sharp. Enough to make Andrea cautious and subconsciously unwilling to disregard the advice, no matter how much she wanted to deny it.

* * *

##  Shout outs!

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	185. Chapter 185

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/

It was quiet and depressing in the cell block that night. As soon as the sun was beyond the horizon, the mood followed it down, sinking beyond sight.

Beth began singing to lift their spirits and it worked, while the others stood or sat beside those they were closest to; drawing comfort from one another.

Rick came down the stairs with Judith in his arms and stood next to Eve, Daryl, and Hershel in front of Randall’s cell on the bottom floor.

“Some reunion, huh?” Daryl said.

“She’s in a jam.” Rick nodded solemnly.

Hershel chimed in, grimly. “We all are. Andrea’s persuasive. This fella’s armed to the teeth. Bent on destruction.”

“So, what do you wanna do?” Daryl asked Eve but surprisingly Rick interrupted.

“I think I know a place where we might be able to get more firepower.”

The three of them turned, giving the previous leader all their attention.

“When I left for Atlanta with the bag of guns, I couldn’t take all of it. I left most of the bigger heavier weapons behind and a lot of ammo. There were also some stores that kept a gun behind the counter that people didn’t know about — I did, I signed the permits.”

Eve’s eyes lit up as she and the others exchanged a look. “If you can get them, then I have some ideas.”

Rick nodded. “I’m goin’ on a run.”

“I’ll head out tomorrow.” Daryl volunteered.

“No, you stay here. You’re needed more at the prison and keep an eye on your brother.” Rick shook his head.

“I’m glad you’re back. Really.” Rick spoke sincerely. “But we can’t have him acting up right now. If he causes a problem, it’ll be on you.”

Daryl already knew this point and had accepted the responsibility since Merle followed him back, but hearing someone else say it, solidified it.

He nodded, heavily. “I got him.”

Eve loosely intertwined her fingers with his. She wanted to say that if Merle caused a problem, she’d handle it, but Daryl is more than capable, and she chose not to undermine his resolve. And truthfully, she’s got more important things on her plate to deal with. Merle’s not stupid; Disagreeable and a pain in the ass, but not stupid. She’s confident that he won’t act up to the point where Daryl won’t be able to handle it himself.

Rick nodded, satisfied, and continued. “I’ll take Michonne.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Daryl asked.

“I’ll find out.” Rick gently bounced Judith as the infant vigorously chewed on her own fingers.

“And Carl. He’s ready.”

Having made their plan, both boys looked at Eve for approval and Eve had the strangest feeling of being a parent giving permission for a sleepover but she’s glad that Rick hasn’t forgotten he’s not in charge anymore but she can still rely on him like a second right hand; on the same level as (if not slightly behind) Daryl.

In the end, she nodded, giving her approval.

The conversation naturally ended and Beth’s soothing voice filled the silence once more.

Eve gave Daryl’s a squeeze before she gently pushed herself off the wall and motioned a lazy finger at the door, Daryl nodded and let her go outside to check on Carl and the others on watch.

After everyone went their separate ways to try and get some sleep, the couple laid in bed quietly, and Eve was unbelievably grateful for the silence.

More and more lately she's been feeling pressured to speak, to let the others know what she’s thinking because most of them don’t have more than a rudimentary level of tacit understanding between them.

It’s like putting her brain on public display and that’s an uncomfortable thought for just about anyone.

Her brain is her safe space, she used to be comfortable in the knowledge that if she didn't want to speak or had nothing to say, she didn't have to, but the more she's gotten involved with people, the more she's felt she _has _to.

And when Daryl wasn’t here, there was no one to interpret her thoughts or work things out together with and let him do the explaining; aside from Glenn and he was busy being consumed by his own vices.

Now that he’s back though, a great deal of that pressure lifted.

She still prefers to let other people talk and just listen until she has something to say but thinking about how she's in charge now and _can't _be as quiet as before left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Eve glanced at Daryl, seeing that he’s still not asleep and had a strange impulse.

She hesitated before lifting his arm up.

Daryl was confused but let her take his arm and lift it behind her head. Eve rested her cheek against the crook of his shoulder and curled her arms up between her chest and his side.

It took Daryl a minute to figure out what to do with his hand now because she’s never done anything like that before, eventually he wound up just resting it around her shoulders, quietly accepting it. The corner of his lip unconsciously quirked up and he internally scoffed at himself for thinking it was kinda cute but left it at that.

The next morning, Eve and Daryl were up first, before the sun and put their gear on, and quietly slipped down the stairs to check on Randall.

Eve was relieved to find that he did it. He made it through the night. He is one tough kid.

Once they were satisfied, the two of them went into the tombs. Checking for certain things as they went and pausing in places to inspect as they made their way further and further.

The further they went, the more walkers there were, even though they’d been sending people down here to clear it a little further every time.

Eve vaguely recognized the path as they went. It was dark and confusing the last time she came down here so it was difficult and they took a few wrong turns but marked their path as they went so it was easy to get back until they finally found it. The way she and T-Dog got out.

It felt like a rat running through a maze the last time she was down here but with Daryl and no pressure, it was far less imposing than last time.

Daryl followed her carefully outside and under the cover of darkness, the two of them slipped out into the woods.

Eve was a little giddy to finally get to use these night vision goggles for real.

Her vision turned green as she pulled them down over her eyes. Daryl followed her for once as they trekked through the woods quietly, he stepped where she stepped, watched their backs as they slowly moved, sweeping the forest like shadows for people who shouldn’t be here.

Contrary to belief, it was alarming that they weren’t finding anyone.

They swept the entire forest surrounding the prison. Twice. Until it was finally sunup, and they didn’t find a single person.

However, when the sun rose, Daryl found something that put them at ease.

Signs that people had been here, for long periods but they obviously weren’t anymore, and it didn’t look like they intended to return.

Daryl straightened up, dusting his hands together after using them on the ground to discern the tracks like a forest whisperer.

“They were probably gathering info. That’s good news for us. Means whatever they took back, ain’t gonna be the case for much longer.”

Eve nodded, her lip quirking up in a half smirk.

The two of them went back through the outer fences in the front this time and got back into the courtyard the same way Daryl had when he first came back the other day.

Just in time to see Rick, Carl, and Michonne getting ready for the run.

Eve tipped Carl’s hat and he swatted at her hand, glaring at her for the teasing before giving her a hug. She tried not to think about how fast he’s getting taller.

“Be cautious.” Eve muttered.

“I will.” Carl nodded and Eve pointed at his gun holstered on his thigh.

He nodded, confirming. “Full clip.”

She smiled, satisfied and Daryl informed Rick of their morning walk’s revelations before getting to the gate and they watched the trio take off on their run.

While they were gone Eve, Daryl, and Glenn got on with setting up according to Eve’s plans, but she had added a few more...finishing touches that really made people look twice at her and be glad that she’s on their side.

* * *

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	186. Chapter 186

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
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The engine of Daryl’s motorcycle rumbled as he put his feet on the ground, walking them until the bike came to a full stop.

Eve’s hands pressed down on his shoulders as she lifted herself off the bike and the subtle ‘shing’ of newly sharpened blades permeated the quiet air at the front of an old grain warehouse that lay halfway between Woodbury and the Prison.

Daryl revved the engine a few times as the other car drove up behind them before he parked, hoping to draw out any walkers that were nearby but nothing, so he grabbed his crossbow as Rick got off the car.

There’s no sign of any other cars or anyone else being here, with any luck they’ve arrived first, but even Carl would know better than to take that on faith.

Eve nodded at Hershel who was driving, and he got his gun ready.

She spun her knives in her hands, watching their 6 as she followed Rick and Daryl between the massive metal cylinders that once stored mostly animal feed and seeds for farmers.

The smell of rust was littered through the stale air as they went between them and out the other side.

There was one large warehouse with 2 entrances on either side, and several smaller shed-like buildings around the outside but all of it was falling apart. It seemed this place hadn’t been in a little longer than just the last year of mother-nature’s necromancy.

The three of them jogged through the grass as they went around the back of the buildings, but it was disturbingly quiet here. The faint sound of birds and other woodland creatures was reassuring for no walkers but not another 30 feet when they found a dead walker on the ground.

It was only one but still.

There might be fewer walkers in this area, but Daryl knelt down to check it and one glance up at the two of them meant it was fresh.

Rick spotted the back entrance of the main warehouse, it wasn’t a huge building on its own, but it was still a decent size.

Rick motioned at the two of them and received two nods before the three of them naturally split from each other.

Eve went around the left side, closest to the tree line that went right up to the edge of the building, her knives best suited for this sort of enclosed combat space — even more so than Daryl’s crossbow. Rick took the building, intending on clearing it before the Governor’s people get here; And Daryl took the right side, his crossbow best suited for an open space.

Daryl made it all the way to the side of the building near a broken window before he heard voices from inside and stopped.

Neither were very loud but one of them was distinctly Rick’s and as he carefully peeked through the window, he saw Rick standing on a raised platform in the center of the warehouse beside a table, the Governor himself standing opposite of him with a “friendly” smile laced with poison, that failed to disguise the malevolent glint in his one good eye; the other covered with a black eyepatch.

On the other side, Eve snuck through the brush and trees and found nothing which was both worrying and somewhat relieving.

She reached the other end before the other two and her eyebrows knit.

Herschel was still in the car, looking around, but couldn’t see her from where she was. This would be a good spot for a hidden sniper. If Randall hadn’t been injured, she would have brought him along for this, but they couldn’t spare anyone for this anyway, and no one else is as good a shot with the rifles that kid. Carl maybe, if his shoulder could withstand the kickback but he’s not old enough for this kind of risk yet; even if he’s a good shot.

It wasn’t until she came out and moved around the front did, she stop near the front, hearing voices inside, and she recognized both of them.

“We have a lot to talk about.”

The Governor’s unnatural smile reminded Rick of the dirtbags he used to arrest for household abuse. When he would show up at the door from the neighbors calling the police, they would all have that same disgusting smile. Like they were pillars of the community. Model citizens. But it’s the eyes. It’s always the eyes that betray their nature.

“You attacked us. Makes things pretty clear.” Rick didn’t dare holster his weapon.

“I was tryna make things clear. I could have killed you all, I didn’t.” The Governor trying to play it off made Eve’s stomach roll and she didn’t need to see him to know he had a “disarming” smile on his face that made her hackles rise, accompanying his twisted logic.

Even Rick wasn’t buying that bullshit.

“And here we are.”

Rick gave a brief smile that was more disbelieving than anything before Rick drew on him.

There are few people who can draw as quick as Rick and the Governor was not one of them, if only by a hair. Maybe if he had been experienced at handling guns _before_ the turn like Rick then he would stand a chance, but he wasn’t.

The Governor wasn’t phased though and simply put his hands up, continuing with that fake reasonableness, like a snake promising not to bite.

“I’m gonna remove my weapon. Show that I mean to negotiate in good faith. I’d like you to do the same. May I?”

Rick recalled Eve’s words after they decided to come to this meeting.

“_Just get him to talk. Find out what he’s aiming to achieve with this meeting._”

Rick tilted his gun slightly for half a second, showing his permission but he has half a mind to just shoot him now and be done with it. He absolutely would, if he knew how many of Woodbury’s people were here but without enough information, he couldn’t risk it.

The Governor unbuckled his gun belt and slowly took it off, before hanging it on a nail on a post behind him.

“See? No trouble. Now you.”

Rick stared at him coldly before lowering his gun and kept his hand firmly gripped on it even as he holstered it at his side, showing a clear resolve not to put it down.

“Suit yourself.” The Governor smiled like a politician and sat down at the table, motioning for Rick to, but he refused to do even that.

The Governor externally acted like he didn’t care but internally a sick little part of him was thrilled that he wasn’t as manipulable as those he’d dealt with in the past but also angry because it would be difficult to get what he wants after all.

The main reason Eve accepted the risk of coming here, was because Andrea is the one who set this up and she wants to see how the Governor intends to deal with them. What he’ll try and how he’s likely to attack them again. He seems fond of surprise attacks, lures and traps, and manipulation.

Eve’s mouth unconsciously curled into a faint snarl. _This guy’s a real piece of work._

No matter. This whole meeting is about intel for them. The more they know about these people, the better.

Outside Daryl finally came around the side and seeing him, Eve moved away from the giant metal-sheeted sliding front door and back towards the car.

Hershel turned the car around and drove over upon seeing the two of them; his window down as he stopped next to the two.

“He’s already in there. Just sat down with Rick.” Daryl informed him.

All three of them were looking around as he spoke and when he was finished Hershel gave his findings.

“I don’t see any cars.”

“It don’t feel right.” Daryl vocalized his sense of unease, looking around in the opposite direction as Eve before looking back to Hershel.

“Keep it runnin’.”

Hershel nodded in agreement.

Not a second later the sound of a rather large vehicle approached, and they raised their weapons as a big dirty white truck pulled up and stopped.

Two men got out of one side, one of them with tan skin and seemed a great deal more threatening than the pasty white office-worker type behind him, and Andrea got off the passenger seat.

“What the Hell, why’s your boy already in there?” Daryl asked, aiming at the tan man who drove.

“What? He’s here?” Andrea’s surprise made it evident that she had no idea the Governor intended to show today.

The space between Eve’s eyebrows scrunched.

“Yup” Daryl answered and Andrea sighed, just barely managing to not roll her eyes before walking towards the front door and using both hands to slide the rusty sheet-metal door open a few feet, just big enough to let a person through.

“What’s going on?” she asked as she went inside and comprehended the two in the center of the room.

“Nothin’. Friend isn’t much for small talk.” The Governor answered.

“Well you wanna talk, talk.” Rick threw back, glancing at the back, just in case. He wasn’t too worried about the front because he heard Daryl out there, but part of him hoped Eve was still out back.

“_I_ wanted you to talk.” Andrea approached the table and spoke like a diplomat, putting her law-training and court-presence to good use. “Too many people have died for no reason. Let’s end this. Save the bullets for the real threat.”

She leaned her hands on the table. “Let’s solve this. That’s why I asked you to come here.”

Truthfully, neither of them were really listening, too busy staring each other down, waiting for the slightest move. Neither one of them was concerned about Andrea being a threat, so they didn’t dare take their eyes off one another.

Eve warned him beforehand that this Governor seemed fond of tricks and manipulation — as learned during her brief stay in Woodbury and the horrors they’ve heard and experienced since — so Rick was being extra cautious. But so was the Governor, and he wasn’t saying much, trying to get Rick to talk first.

So, Rick decided to poke the bear a little bit.

“I know what you’ve done.”

The Governor continued to look as if he didn’t know what Rick was talking about. A pretense that Rick had a feeling went up the moment Andrea showed up. He was only putting it up because of Andrea’s presence.

“I heard about the raids, the heads, Maggie.”

“Merle did that.” The Governor was quick to make that clear.

“No.” Rick denied firmly but it was so outright that he almost sounded casual. “_You know what I’m talkin’ about._”

“You know all about me, and I know all about you — I don’t care about any of that. We’re here to move forward.”

Rick’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly. He was awfully quick to try and steer the conversation away from that topic. Which means Andrea at the very least probably doesn’t know and the Governor doesn’t want her to know. How many of his people are in the dark about what he really is?

His last two sentences made Rick tense and he raised his guard even further.

Outside, things were tense. Eve wanted to slip around back and go check that sniper spot and the perimeter again but with how tense things were, there was no way she could slip away unnoticed. It may even turn into a standoff if one of them tries to leave.

Both sides kept their eyes on each other’s every move, but even at a brief glance it’s obvious their side would win a fight. There’s 3 of them who are more than capable of fighting, and only two of the Governor’s people were still out here, and only the tan man had his machine gun out, the other was writing in a notebook on the hood behind him.

Daryl paced in front of her and Hershel, and Hershel finally said, “Maybe I should go inside.”

As soon as Hershel said it, the pale man with glasses looked up and refuted him.

“The Governor thought it best if he and Rick spoke privately.”

Eve blinked. _I’m sorry was that supposed to convince us??? Listen, buddy, **you** may be obligated to listen to him, but as far as we’re concerned the Governor’s just another asshole. His “rank” is not above ours._

Daryl shared the same sentiments and couldn’t resist looking at the man and asking, “Who the Hell are you?”

“Milton. Mamet.” The man answered, a little nervousness sneaking in at the end before he returned to writing in his book.

“Great. He brought his butler.”

Eve repressed a laugh but the tan man on the other side chuckled under his breath. Seems he doesn’t think too highly of ‘Milton’ either.

“I’m his advisor.” Milton didn’t even bother looking up from his notebook.

_Advisor, huh? I wonder how much of his twisted ideas were “advised”._ Eve thought to herself, not making it obvious that she was watching him a little more closely now.

Daryl had a similar thought and asked with genuine curiosity, “What kind of advice?”

Milton raised his head, but his eyes kept the lower corner of his eyes in thought as he answered, “Planning, biters. Uh, you know I’m sorry, I don’t feel the need to explain myself to the henchman.”

“Better watch your mouth, Sunshine.” Daryl chastised like he normally does.

The tan man finally chose to join the exchange.

“Look, if you and I are gonna be out here pointin’ guns at each other all day, do me a favor… shut your mouth.”

Daryl stalked up to him like he was ready to fight him the way he fights with Merle, and Hershel cut in before it got out of hand.

“We don’t need this. If all goes south in there, we’ll be at each other’s throats soon enough.”

Daryl and the tan man backed down, Daryl coming back towards them but surprisingly Eve didn’t give him a chastising gaze like he half expected. She looked rather neutral actually and he went back to pacing like a wild wolf in a cage.

Eve’s soft exhale of amusement swaddled in disbelief, went entirely unnoticed by both parties as she watched Milton ignorantly turn back to his notebook as if he didn’t just provoke an already aggrieved and on edge enemy.

_For an adviser, he isn’t too bright._

She didn’t even need to give this “advisor” a once over to know he is _not _combat capable. It was evident by the way he dresses and speaks — he honestly reminds her of some of their group members before the CDC.

He speaks like a modern person still. Like humanity hasn’t been set back to tribal ways and this isn’t a diplomatic meeting between two warring peoples bent on destroying each other.

Failing to recognize what position they’re actually in. No wonder the Governor behaves so erratically and gets away with it — maybe he’s even encouraged for all she knows!

Being “advised” by someone who doesn’t understand their situation clearly, it’s a wonder Woodbury has stood this long.

If that wasn’t funny enough, he called them henchmen completely unaware that the leader isn’t in there, but right here.

Adding in their surprise when they found out their own leader was here before them, proves how unstable their ranks are.

Their own leader doesn’t trust them, and if they feel the need to justify their positions to outsiders with childish gimmicks like this, then they don’t trust the Governor either. They’re aware of how erratic he is.

Woodbury might be easier to deal with than she thought.

She paid a little more attention to the tan man’s behavior. He didn’t say much aside from that one sentence, but he isn’t too good at hiding what he’s thinking.

His own body language and expression gave away the fact Milton doesn’t know how to fight and can probably barely defend himself. Which means he just told them that this is a 3v1.

They’re either stupid or they sure have a lot of confidence in themselves.

From what she saw herself, and what Merle said — which was later confirmed by Andrea when she came to the prison and said they were _training _to attack — most of the people inside their walls are normal civilians.

Your everyday guys, gals, and non-binary pals. Very few of them have any combat experience, and even fewer know what’s actually going on.

If there’s anybody biting their tongue and keeping quiet, Eve wants to know about it but that might be a little far reaching. Planting a spy isn’t exactly feasible or safe.

She pegged Milton as somewhat of a pacifist by his behavior and this tan guy has got to be Martinez. Merle’s description this morning when she asked who was likely to show up for this, wasn’t far off but he expected there to be one more person that she hasn’t seen yet. A tall black man, also quiet but handy with a gun and takes orders directly from Martinez and the Governor. He and Martinez usually operate together but she hasn’t seen him.

That makes her wary of him hiding somewhere and could explain why Martinez is so relaxed, but that could also be his personality. Merle said he was more lackadaisical than the others but is aware about what really goes on in Woodbury, with the Governor specifically. He has a good ability for seeing past bullshit.

With a little bit of Eve’s own observation over the next few minutes, he’s good at knowing where he stands. He has the same attitude as they do, they’re all aware that this “negotiation” is just a pretense.

Before, Eve wasn’t too sure. It was entirely possible that they were here to negotiate terms and leave each other alone because neither was willing to give up what they’d built up here, but Martinez’s attitude confirmed it. They’re not here to negotiate, they’re here to feel each other out.

Suddenly Eve heard the voices inside getting a little more riled up and distinctly heard Rick raise his voice, “_You told me he was willing to talk._”

Everyone outside bristled, eyes on the door, but there was no follow up after that for a few moments until a minute later and Andrea stormed out.

Martinez walked towards her with a questioning eyebrow, but she said nothing and just went to the side where there’s a bench and sat down with her head in her hands.

Martinez went up and closed the door, leaving Rick and the Governor alone again.

**Eve’s POV**

A while later, even Daryl’s pacing has slowed down.

Everybody outside baking in the sun has been leaking energy like overcharged batteries, just waiting around in this tense atmosphere.

Nobody escaped the effect, not even me.

My legs are boiling from sitting on the roof of the hot car, playing with the reflection of my knife on the asphalt.

Nobody is even watching each other closely anymore.

I mean yeah, we glance at each other every so often, but I think I speak for all of us when I say that we’ve tacitly agreed that none of us give a shit anymore.

Unless something happens inside, we’re obviously not gonna do anything, and if all goes right today, we won’t be shooting each other at all this time, even if these “negotiations” end ugly.

After another few minutes of sweltering ticked by, I finally couldn’t take it anymore and hopped down.

I gave Daryl’s shoulder a slight bump and glanced away, letting him know I’m gonna head off for a bit. I can’t relax without knowing whether they brought others or not. I don’t exactly trust these people.

He nodded, glancing at the other side who aren’t paying any attention to us whatsoever, and grumbled to me in a low voice that only I could hear.

“Don’t go too far.”

I nodded and casually went around the car, sitting at the back for a bit in the shade, just so I didn't disappear right away and tip them off, before slipping away and heading for the sniper spot, and one other place I noticed while we’ve been sitting on our hands.

Checking those places was _fast._ Faster than I anticipated — it took me barely a minute to get around the back and make sure I wasn’t spotted through the back door when I went past.

After I checked those places, I couldn’t deny it anymore. There really isn’t anyone else here, there aren’t even any signs (that _I _can pick up) that anyone except me has been over here.

I finally sighed and went to double back but stopped when I saw a little natural path through the trees that lead over the road and to more buildings on the other side that we didn’t check.

I hesitated for a moment but what the Hell else am I gonna do? Keep playing with light reflections like a cat, wondering if me or Daryl or Hershel are being looked at through a scope from somewhere?

Pass, thanks.

I was careful getting across the street without being seen and made my way around two buildings, getting behind those guys to check that side and on the other side of the street — from the direction they came from — and yet I _still _found nothing.

I suppose that’s better than finding _something_, and at least I have some peace of mind now.

They really did come by themselves.

I wiped the sweat off the side of my face with the back of my hands. This area really is quiet, but the longer we’ve been here, the less wary I’ve become towards it.

We’ve been hanging out here long enough, in the open, that I’m not so worried about it anymore. I think it really is just a quiet area, not many walkers.

If there were any, they’d have come out by now.

With an exhausted sigh, I turned back to head back the way I came and passed another structure on the wrong side of the road that would also have been a good spot for a sniper, seeing as how it has a direct line of sight to the front of the warehouse where I can see everybody hanging out. I can even see Andrea sulking from here; lookin’ like she’s just been told her teenage son took his friend’s joyriding in her B&W and crashed it into a retirement home. But alas, this building’s roof is caved in and it wasn’t difficult to see inside without taking a single step from where I am.

Moving on, I turned around the side of yet another grain store, intending to make one big loop and end up behind my guys so I can sneak back from behind the car like I never left.

The grain stores had different plans for me though.

I snuck around the side of it and a mass of feathers flew past me.

I jumped and unintentionally hit the metal with the butt of my knife, hard enough to make it echo like a gong that’s bigger than a person or a frickin’ church bell, and alerted my presence to the _only_ walkers in this _entire place_, who were chillin’ in the space ahead of me. Because that’s the kind of luck I have.

They looked straight at me like a horror movie and the first thing that came to mind was, “_Seriously? That was **an actual**.dinner.bell!”_

Spinning my knife in hand, I turned to run back but didn’t get ten feet before my heart leapt into my throat and I slid to a stop — three walkers blocking the way I came.

_Dammit! _They must have come around the other side of the cylinder.

Spinning on my toes, I plunged my knife into a skull that was too close for comfort and threw my shoulder as hard as I could into the body, knocking down every walker behind it like bowling pins.

A thrill shot through me as my half a second plan worked, and I ran past them before they had a chance to even raise their hands to grab at me and dashed into the clearing on the other side.

The victory was short lived.

As soon as I got out of the trap that these grain stores created, it wasn’t any better. There were four others waiting for me and when they saw me, I could almost _see_ their hunger kick up a notch.

It’s too risky to go back. I grit my teeth. _I don’t have a choice; the only way is forward._

I raised my knives and took a quick breath before dropping in a crouch and swung my leg out in a practiced motion, sweep-kicking the two closest walkers in a row right off their feet.

As soon as they were out of the way, I threw my knives before the bodies even hit the ground with squelching thuds and cracks like ice breaking.

Thank youuuuuuu past me for starting MMA practice again at the farm.

The newly sharpened knives buried themselves into the foreheads of the third and fourth and I made to grab them as I ran past, but my celebration was even shorter as the walkers I knocked down, grabbed both my legs, instead of trying to get up.

I plummeted forward, my feet stumbling, and my boots caught on their jaws as my hands shot out, trying to catch myself and I managed to land in a push up without face-planting.

I had no time to think about how successful my catch was when I felt imposing pressure on my leg.

In a knee jerk reaction, I kicked my legs and jammed the tip of my thick leather boots into their mouths when I couldn’t get my legs free, to avoid losing a chunk of my calf.

Trying not to think about the pressure caving in on my toes, my eyes darted around for anything within reach and the second I saw something, my hand shot for it.

My fist yanked the rusted bar free of the dirt and I twisted, twirling it between my fingers until it gained enough momentum and timed it when I flung my arm back with as much force as I could muster.

The skull cracked like a walnut with a squelch as I stabbed the bar through its skull with enough force — aided by the momentum from the twirling — to puncture it out the back of its head back into the dirt.

Every hair on the back of my neck stood up and my heart pounded so hard it could out beat a marching band as growls and bangs and other noises from between the grain stores; meaning the walkers are getting back up and could be here any second.

My arm trembled under my weight, while the other walker pawed at me leg, trying to scratch its way through my jeans.

I pulled my foot out of the dead one’s mouth, kicking its arms free of me and used the bar’s leverage to pull myself backwards until I could scramble up.

I reached for the back of my waistband and my heart pounded when nothing met my fingers.

_Where’s my gun!?!_

Acting fast, I let go of the bar, ripped my shoe out of its mouth and brought my leg down so hard I may have done less damage if I dropped a bowling ball on it.

It’s rotted soft skull crushed like a frozen grape and cracked open like an egg, scattering blood and brain matter beneath my boots like an elephant stepping on a watermelon.

My chest heaved as I ripped the rebar out of the ground again in one pull — which I would not have been able to do if I didn’t have enough adrenaline to kill a whale shooting through my veins — and whirled around, looking for the next one but I didn’t find any walkers. Instead, I found an audience.

I froze out of instinct, returning a blank stare to Daryl and Martinez’s looks of mild disgust and somewhat veiled awe.

“...”

“...”

My foot squished and I looked down before stepping out of the remains of a skull, my chest still heaving, and moved to a cleaner patch of grass and wiped the blood and flesh off my boots.

_Well...so long as this is a performance._

I gave an exaggerated performer’s bow.

Daryl rolled his eyes, but you can’t hide that amusement from me, I know you thought it was funny. That’s precisely why I winked at him.

Martinez gave me a mildly impressed look and moved to lean against a phone pole.

Daryl came up, glancing over me while I blew a loose strand of hair outta my face.

He lowered his voice. “What did I say about going too far?”

Does this look far to you? We’re like 10 meters from where we’ve been sitting _all day_.

“At least it wasn’t a sinkhole this time.”

My jaw dropped open completely caught off guard.

_BitCh—_

I stuck my tongue out at him, but he didn’t care, instead _chuckling_, which prompted Martinez to do it too.

_Bish I could have died where did all your concern for my well-being go???_

At least they took care of the ones behind me.

I shook my head going to retrieve my knives, still mentally raving as I yanked them out and spun them a few times in my hands; flinging as much congealed blood off as I cloud before wiping them on the walkers clothes and stowing them back where they belong. They’re still gonna need a good cleaning but whatever.

I guess it’s a good thing this concluded my sweep of the area, huh?

I doubt they even knew I was gone before now, but looking at Martinez, he doesn’t seem too concerned about it. Maybe he did notice me leave and just didn’t care.

“Look what he’s got.”

I looked over and watched Daryl pull a pack of smokes out of a walker’s pocket and hold it up over his shoulder. He stood back up and put one between his lips before offering them to Martinez.

Martinez read the box, shaking his head. “Nah, I prefer menthols.”

“Douchebag.” Daryl muttered nonchalantly as he put the pack in his back pocket and got a lighter.

I moved back slightly, rolling my shoulder as he lit one up and directed his gaze at Martinez.

“You army or somethin’?” Daryl looked at Martinez, blowing smoke from his lips.

“Nah, I just...just hate these things.” Martinez’s intense stare fixated on his bloodied bat.

“After what they did to my wife...kids.”

Daryl glanced at the ground, before bringing his smoke back to his lips. “That sucks.”

“Thanks.” Martinez’s voice was quiet as he nodded.

It was silent for a few moments before he looked between me and Daryl.

“You know this is a joke, right?”

I raised an eyebrow, not really sure whether that was directed at me or not; cause what just happened most certainly wasn’t a joke — well ok, maybe the bow at the end was but in my defense, I thought it was the perfect end to a near-death experience.

“They ain’t gonna work anything out. Sure, they’ll do their little dance and tomorrow, next day...they’ll give the word.”

So he was aware. Good to know.

“I know.” Daryl answered gruffly.

Martinez doesn’t seem that bad to be honest. We’re on different sides of this but I don’t have anything against him personally. He doesn’t seem like he even wants to be here, fighting someone else’s vendetta.

“Hey,” Martinez motioned at Daryl and Daryl handed him the smokes.

I swallowed and tapped Daryl on the shoulder. If they’re _both _gonna smoke, I’m not sticking around. I can handle Daryl cause I… I don’t know. It’s not comfortable, but I can tolerate it, but not Martinez too.

He looked at me and I jabbed my thumb over my shoulder already starting off.

He nodded and shifted like he was going to come with me but stopped as soon as he touched the cigarette in his mouth.

I paused and waited for him to do something, but he was just staring at me. Until his eyes moved to my shoulder.

He shifted before muttering, “I’ll catch up.”

He shifted and muttered, “I’ll catch up”

I nodded and gave Martinez a short departing one before making my way back between the containers towards the warehouse.

Getting back won’t be difficult. I’ll just follow this nice trail of bodies, and beside one of those bodies was none other than her missing gun. Sitting right next to a pile of the bowling pin walkers.

**3rd Person POV**

Martinez watched the exchange with casual curiosity. He pegged a while ago that these two had a different sort of connection but he’s still not quite sure what it is.

He noticed Daryl glance at her shoulder though and freeze as soon as his fingers touched the cigarette in his mouth. He didn’t quite put 2 and 2 together, but he got halfway and assumed that maybe he had promised to quit smokin’ or something but whatever, it’s none of his business.

Amazing what boredom will do to a person. He’s even making guesses about these people’s personal lives now.

Daryl and Martinez, ironically, were the only two to have a decent conversation all this time and it was during a brief smoke break. But Daryl didn’t finish his and he was uncomfortable through the whole thing. It took him a while to realize he was thinking about whether the smell would…... and that’s when he put it out on the bottom of his shoe and dropped it into the bowl of wet goop that was once a head and went back.

Meanwhile, Eve went back just as Hershel got up from where he was sitting with Milton on this side of the road, having just finished a conversation about how he lost his leg before Hershel got up to go talk to Andrea.

Eve naturally went to sit by them, noticing Andrea did not look great.

“How’s it going in there?” Hershel asked the golden blonde.

Andrea looked up and answered dejectedly.

“They kicked me out.” 

She released an exhausted sigh, returning her eyes to the ground and continued.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“You’re trying to help.” Hershel answered, like it was the most natural thing to see, glancing around.

Andrea slowly looked up again and hesitated before asking with a voice on the verge of breaking, “What happened with Maggie?”

Hershel looked at her, knowing that she had already guessed what had happened and was just looking for confirmation.

“He’s a sick man.”

Andrea looked away again, her eyes drifting to Milton across the road who met hers for a moment before returning them to his little notebook.

“What am I gonna do now?” Tears collected in her eyes as she looked around, trying not to cry. “I can’t go back there.”

“We’re family. You belong with us.” Hershel reassured her but he couldn’t deny the reality either. “But if you join us… it’s settled.”

“I know.” A single tiny tear slipped out of her eye, barely big enough to roll down her bottom eyelid.

Andrea swallowed, looking down.

The decision she wanted to make was clear as day, but she knew she couldn’t just make it without irreparable consequences. She didn’t even feel as though it was a real option.

After Hershel finished speaking Eve suddenly spoke.

“You have to go back.”

She looked Andrea in the eyes. “But you don’t have to _stay_.”

Milton’s view of that dark-haired woman was blocked by Hershel as she sat on the bench beside Andrea but for a moment, when the old man shifted, it looked like she was talking to Andrea.

That wouldn’t be unusual — they were part of the same group for a long time, but Andrea told him about that woman.

He only recognized her because of how quiet she’s been and the distinctive gold eyes.

Eve, was it?

Andrea said she wasn’t much of a talker. That she had never heard more than a few words from her.

After seeing her in person... he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious.

There’s a strange air around her. It’s easy to overlook her, like even if you’re looking right at her, she’s in your blind spot. Always just out of sight.

He can’t quite tell whether it raises a red flag or if she’s just not that significant.

For half a second Milton met a gold eye around Hershel.

Inside the warehouse, Rick looked at the Governor in silence as the man got up and stretched his legs a little.

“You know, the truth is I didn’t want any of this. They chose me because there was nobody else around.” The Governor chuckled as he rubbed his hands. “And they still think that I’m the man who can keep them safe. They still think I know what I’m doing.”

That may be the first honest, unveiled thing this man has said to Rick this entire conversation, but Rick continued to sit there and quietly listen. He finally gets why Eve never said much. The less you say, the more other people talk.

The Governor went over and picked his gun belt off the nail, casually putting it back on and simultaneously indicating that this conversation will be over soon but they’re past the point where Rick thought he would shoot him. Nevertheless, his hand remained on his gun where it’s been all this time, even after he had sat down when Andrea left, and even after he finally drank the whiskey the Governor had brought (but only after the Governor had drunk 3 glasses himself).

“I know you got guns. Mmm. That was quite a stash you brought back the other day.” The Governor didn’t expect that Rick didn’t know they were being watched; he was a little disappointed that he didn’t even flinch though.

“Now my people, they’re not uh, combat-tested like yours are but… I’ve got more of them. So, this fight, it will go down to the last man.”

The Governor came back towards him.

“So, let’s end it. Today. Let’s not do this. Hm? We can walk away.”

Rick shifted with a deep breath but his posture already said that he knew the Governor wanted something, and Rick was ready to finally hear it, after spending so long letting the Governor talk and try his mind games and waste time. Finally, he’s through with all that and Rick knew it when the atmosphere became darker, heavier and the man opened his mouth again, taking slow steps towards Rick.

“You have something that I want.”

“One thing that makes this all alright.”

“I’m not giving up the prison.” Rick stated.

The Governor laughed as he sat back down. “No.”

“No, I uh— I don’t want your prison. That doesn’t sound safe at all. I mean, you lost your wife, and almost half your group.”

“We’re not movin’ on.” Rick stated again.

“What good would that do me? Best you stay where I can keep my one good eye on you.” The Governor squinted his one eye at him in a sinisterly playful way.

His mood changed again, and the Governor slowly took his eyepatch off, the air evidently being a bit painful to the still fresh wound.

The skin looked like a cross made of curdled wet blood, the eyelid partially deflated and dark, discolored. The inside red with bits of white goop, whatever survived from his actual eyeball but Rick couldn’t even tell if his iris and pupil were even still there.

“**_I want Michonne._**”

The Governor dropped all pretenses, all mind games. His one piercing eye fixed on Rick.

“Turn her over and this all goes away. Is she worth it? One woman… worth all those lives at your prison. Is she?”

Rick’s eyes drifted down in thought.

Eve turned her head back to Andrea and nodded before pulling a small map out from her jacket and trailed her finger over it, pointing to a spot and then trailing again.

“Memorize it.”

Andrea nodded, watching Eve’s finger carefully as she repeatedly traced the path. “I got it — but this is the wrong way.”

Eve nodded. “You can’t let them know where you’re going. Even if they assume right, this will throw them off long enough.”

“Stay off the road. Move next to it, not on it. Leave as little trace as possible when you leave. Don’t tell anyone, don’t say goodbye, don’t behave or speak like you’re not gonna be there. Make a point of telling them you will be, but don’t be too specific, that way if they notice you’re missing too soon, they’ll waste time searching the base for you and won’t assume anything until after they can’t find you.”

Andrea’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration for a moment before it relaxed, and she nodded.

“How will I know which one?”

“You’ll know it when you see it.” Eve tapped that spot on the map again.

“If you get into trouble before you can get out or can’t find an opportunity to slip away, set a fire. Make it big. It’ll be enough of a distraction they won’t have time to worry about what you’re doing.”

Andrea nodded again.

“Remember, _don’t_ go to the prison. That’s the first place they’ll assume. You will be caught, and we won’t be able to help you.”

“I’ll leave you further instructions there.”

Andrea nodded, seriously and Eve held out her hand.

Andrea grasped it and Eve squeezed her hand.

“Good luck.”

Eve slipped the map back into her pocket and she and Hershel moved away, going back to their own side, just as Daryl and Martinez came back.

Daryl glanced at Eve and with her back facing everyone else, she winked at him.

Daryl concealed his surprise well, he didn’t know what had happened yet, but she wouldn’t have signaled him if it wasn’t significant, and judging by her calm serious composure, whatever it was is something in their favor.

It wasn’t long after that, that the Governor came out with an imposing stride, followed by Rick. The malevolent atmosphere followed them outside and immediately all sense of what little familiarity the lot of them had built up just by being out here together for hours, was gone. Covered in a thick black fog that spread in the Governor’s wake with every step he took towards the truck without saying a word.

The party was over the moment the Governor came out and everyone moved back towards their cars like kids who got caught playing when they weren’t supposed to be, but neither man who came out of the warehouse seemed to care.

The people outside seemed to have had a better time than those who had gone in.

His hands in his pockets, Rick exchanged a look with Eve and Daryl that only said one thing. Whatever they talked about, they need to know, _asap_.

To an outsider though, the meaning of those two seconds of eye contact was too deep to understand.

Martinez glanced at Daryl & Eve as he got in the backseat, and it would be a lie if the three of them didn’t understand that it was a parting on good terms. They all knew they’re on different sides of this, but they don’t have beef with each other specifically.

It’s a rare thing, finding a tacit understanding with your enemy that if you didn’t have to fight each other, you probably wouldn’t. That’s the nature of war. People fighting other people’s wars. Wars they didn’t start, wars they wanted no part of but didn’t really have a choice.

It’s rare to find respect for your enemy and it was even weirder to find that between these three of all people.

Daryl went so far as to give him a nod, which Martinez returned before he pulled the truck door shut.

Eve went to Daryl’s motorcycle with him while the others went to the car and a chorus of car doors shut.

She made eye contact with Andrea and gave her a casual two finger salute, just as a parting, and Andrea gave a little nod in turn before returning to the truck.

Eve deliberately moved her gaze across the windshield of Woodbury’s truck, checking the driver’s seat and thankfully the Governor had one beady on Rick, the two of them staring each other down.

Eve wouldn’t have done anything at all if he hadn’t seen Andrea looking at her. This is as far as she can help Andrea to dissuade suspicion and get away. She’s on her own from here.

Daryl drove past first, and Eve shared a nod with Martinez too as they passed the back window, a surprising small part of her hopes that whatever happens after today, they won’t have to be the ones to kill each other.

And just like that, the cars drove off in different directions.

On the way back, Eve tapped Daryl and cupped her hand around his ear so he could hear. “We need to make a stop. I’ll tell you when.”

He nodded and a few minutes later, she tapped his shoulder again and pointed where he needed to turn.

Rick in the car behind them was confused but naturally followed when he didn’t see a gesture to do otherwise before Hershel could even open his mouth to explain.

When they reached a seemingly innocuous building, Eve got off the bike and pointed at a seemingly random car, turning to the other two. “Hershel take watch. Rick see if you can get this running and bring me the keys.”

They were both confused now but nodded and Eve motioned Daryl to come with her into the two-story building behind it.

There weren’t any walkers inside, so it wasn’t difficult to clear and secure and upstairs, Eve grabbed a box and took her knife to start carving.

“What’s this about?” Daryl asked, wanting to know what exactly her game plan is. She didn’t say anything about this before they left.

Eve didn’t answer and finished her carving before handing him the box.

Daryl looked down at the dusty plastic bin with ‘On Golden Pond’ carved into the navy blue lid, and a vision of an old man in a bucket hat fixing the troublesome radiator hose of a certain RV flashed across his mind.

“You’re leavin’ this for Andrea?”

Eve nodded and took out the spare gun and a spare clip she had equipped just that morning and opened the box, putting them inside.

“She’s leaving Woodbury. Give me your walkie.”

Daryl passed the box to her and took it out of his pocket, tossing it in without prompt.

“It’s already set to the right channel, but she won’t be able to get a signal from this far.”

Eve nodded; she knows.

Passing the box back, she dug her notebook out of her pocket and wrote a somewhat cryptic message:

_‘The channel number is the same as the number of letters in Amy’s favorite mythical creature. The color that’s closest to Dale’s eyes is the correct next location.’_

Andrea and Eve are just about the only two people left in this world who will understand this message.

Assuming Andrea hasn’t forgotten about her younger sister’s obsession with mermaids, or what color Dale’s eyes are.

Once that was done, she took out the mini map from her pocket and the two pens from her pocket, a blue and a black one, and circled two different spots on the map; both of which _could_ be the right one but aren’t. The point is just to get her close enough to them to use the walkie, and then Eve can send her to the actual right place.

Rick came up not a minute later and tossed the keys at her.

Eve caught the little bundle and dropped them into the box along with the note.

Eve put the box in the open where it would be easily found but only by someone who was looking for a clue.

They headed back just as the sun was going down and the world was cast in an orange light.

The others were relieved to see that they were alright and Eve was pleased to see the preparations she’d left for them got done, and Glenn reported to her that everything went smoothly aside from Merle trying to sneak attack the Governor while they were gone. They managed to stop him obviously, but only just.

Eve nodded and glanced at Daryl beside her, he nodded and kissed the side of her head. “Go clean up, I got it.”

The corner of Eve’s lip quirked up and she went to do just that before meeting everyone for dinner. For once, they all ate in the same room at the same time and with all these guns and invisible but mounted defenses, a sense of determined hope hung in the room.

They’re ready for the fight of their lives, and they’re ready to _win_.

* * *

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
If you have any pointers for my writing or how I can improve I’d love to hear them!
> 
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	187. Chapter 187

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
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**This chapter has more of a narrative feeling than previous chapters because it would have been way too long if I did it any other way (believe me I tried). So, sorry in advance.**

* * *

Getting back to the prison, Rick stepped aside with those who had accompanied him to the meeting and told them verbatim what the other man had said and pointedly, what he wanted.

“He wants Michonne?” Hershel’s eyebrows rose almost to his hairline.

Rick nodded. “He wants us to bring her to him in three days.”

Eve scoffed. “Only an idiot would fall for that knowing what we do about him.”

“You think he lied?” Daryl asked.

Rick shifted. “If he did, it was pretty… convincing.”

Eve gave a firm nod without hesitation. The thought that he may not have been lying never crossed her mind, even when they received the invitation to the negotiation. “I have no doubt that’s what he really wants. But his M.O. is extending a ceasefire and getting the other side to drop their guard, then striking.”

“You think he has something else in mind?” Hershel asked.

Eve nodded again. “Undoubtedly. He wants Michonne, but he won’t let us off even if he gets her.”

You would have to have some IQ to trust that person’s words after hearing about all the things he’s done.

“You have a plan?” Daryl was the only one who picked up on what she was thinking.

The corner of Eve’s lips quirked up in a smile, picturesque of ‘sly as a fox’.

“We know where he’s gonna be, and when. Woodbury will be undefended.”

Daryl’s eyebrows furrowed, not expecting Eve to advocate a move like this much less propose it herself.

“You want to hit Woodbury?”

Hershel breathed in sternly and reminded her with some warning. “There are a lot of innocent people who have nothing to do with this in that town.”

Eve wasn’t foolish enough to not pick up on his tone, but she also isn’t a crazed axe-murderer.

She shook her head. “Killing is unnecessary. We’re going to punish them for leaving their base vulnerable.”

Rick shifted. “I trust you have an idea of how exactly to do that but how are we gonna get close? They got sentries on every wall.”

Eve smiled, a mischievous glint igniting in the depths of her fiery eyes, like a flame growing in the darkness.

“They won’t be a problem.”

Inside, Eve gathered the team around and began explaining the last phase of their preparations.

“Go to the prison kitchen and find either black garbage bags or search around for more metal sheets, anything big enough to block view, cover these areas.”

Eve pointed out areas on their little hand drawn maps and wrote down a specific list of things that needed to be covered, no matter if they need to use old newspaper, cardboard, and street litter. These places needed to be obstructed from sight. Then she pointed to some specific spots. It would be better if they could cover all the fences all the way around but that’s just not feasible. However, that’s no reason not to cover the most important parts.

“Except for these. Leave these alone.”

Glenn furrowed his eyebrows.

“That’s the front of the prison, what’s the use of covering the rest if we’ll be completely visible from the front?”

“That’s the idea.” Eve straightened as Daryl, Michonne, and Merle came in with the stuff she asked for.

“You think this’ll be enough?” Daryl asked as he set things on the table and on the ground beside them.

A satisfied smile pulled across Eve’s lips and she replied with a single firm nod as she looked at the things.

She turned her gaze to T-Dog across the silver metal table from her.

“Are the tombs done?”

He nodded. “Yeah, only one left. Tiny and Rick are taking care of it right now.”

Eve moved to Maggie. “On watch?”

“Carl and Carol. Next shift is Beth and I.”

Eve nodded again in satisfaction. The smooth progression is more than she hoped for, and finally turned her eyes to Merle.

“Can I trust you to handle the final stage?”

Merle straightened up at its mention. His posture said he was sizing her up, but his eyes held a respect that didn’t match it and he firmly nodded.

“I can get ‘em in place.”

Eve awarded an appreciative and trusting nod to him for her unveiled test of trust. If Merle can do this, she — and the rest — will be more inclined to trust him, and his position in the group will be more secure.

Moving on, Eve pointed at Daryl, Glenn, and Michonne.

“Tonight, you three are coming with me.”

“Where?”

Eve smiled. “Run some errands.”

“More like sneaking out like teenagers.” Michonne joked in a muted voice, laced with amusement.

Glenn sighed, shaking his head with a hint of amusement himself. “You’re being really cryptic today, you know that?”

Eve chuckled and patted his shoulder and answered, “We’re going to scout.” before heading off with Daryl to finish a few things. They only have a few hours before it gets dark, that meeting took longer than expected.

After the small group snuck out the back of the prison using the night vision goggles and playing ‘follow the leader’ to the woman who had them on, they bypassed the hidden scouts around the prison and fled off to find a car and went on their way.

In the car, Daryl turned his head to look at Eve in the driver’s seat. The night vision goggles strapped over her head making her look abnormally serious and funny but allowed her to drive without the headlights. With duct tape covering the rear lights and the moon being a mere sliver, the car was completely invisible under the cloak of night.

“Thanks for giving Merle a chance.”

Eve didn’t reply and smiled, glancing at him with her goofy green goggles before quickly returning her eyes to the road and haphazardly found his hand in the dark.

Just after they had laced their fingers together, the static from the walkie interrupted them and Michonne sat up immediately as she heard the voice come through the line.

“_Eve, are you there? It’s me, Andrea._”

Eve picked up the walkie and pressed the talk button, confirming it was her, “I’m here.”

Andrea sighed in relief, sitting next to the plastic box with the clever messages and confirmed that she got away from Woodbury, but she had something important to tell them. She almost couldn’t speak fast enough as she told them about the room that she saw the Governor preparing before she left. A torture room, in the same building that he had probably held the three of them when Merle captured them.

Eve and Daryl exchanged a knowing glance. Eve knew that man was untrustworthy. Thank god they didn’t take today’s bait.

Eve quickly radioed back and told Andrea to make her way to a secondary location using the car they left her and told her to contact them again when she got there, before declaring radio silence; i.e. only contact in the event of an emergency. Just in case.

This scouting mission would be quick, Eve just needed to check up on a few things and make sure it would work. She brought the other three with her because she needed a few more hands but once they finished what they had set out to do, Eve forewent the other things that she’d planned on checking in favor of going to meet Andrea.

Within half an hour, Andrea radioed them, and Eve parked a distance away; leaving Michonne and Glenn to look after the car and brought Daryl to go make sure this isn’t a trap.

When they were finally close enough to see Andrea, they hid a good distance away, tucked into the darkness like shadows and waited to make sure the blonde was really alone and not being held against her will or double crossing them; intentionally or otherwise.

With eyes on Andrea’s car, they kept her waiting for about 20 minutes, at which point Eve’s ankles were going to sleep, Daryl was getting impatient, and Andrea actually got out of the car, glancing around with an antsy look but she was in fact alone.

Eve finally took her walkie out again and radioed her. “Andrea, we got held up. Where are you?”

Andrea told them where she was, no lies, and before she forgot she looked down at the thing in her hand and added, “_I got what you asked for._”

Daryl and Eve narrowed their eyes at the woman standing in the dark, watching as she palmed another radio in her hand.

“Is it off?”

“_Yes._”

“Good work. It’s too dangerous for us to come get you tonight, the prison is being watched, it’s too risky to let them see us bring you back right away. Can you handle yourself for a few days?”

Andrea looked dejected but nodded to herself and spoke with resolve. “Yeah. Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.”

Eve smiled, furthering her belief that Andrea is trustworthy even if she’s been in Woodbury for so long.

As much as she’d like to bring her back straight away, Eve can’t take the risk _just_ yet because of what’s going down right now. The timing is just a little too suspicious, but she’s more confident now than she was before and quickly radioed back, telling Andrea to go to yet another location where she’ll be safe, and there’s unlooted supplies that should last around a week.

Eve didn’t say it but the reason she chose that place beforehand was because it’s close to the safe point where they planned to send the others to retreat during the next fight.

“It’s relatively safe but be cautious. If you get in trouble, radio back.”

“_Understood. Take care of yourselves._” Andrea answered concisely and waited for Eve’s sincere reply of, “You too.” before getting back in the car.

Eve and Daryl hung around for a few more minutes, making sure Andrea left safely and alone; making sure no one was following her before they were both satisfied and Daryl finally called it, tapping Eve’s shoulder to signal them to sneak back to the car.

When they got back, Glenn and Michonne were waiting on either side of the car with their guns and upon seeing them, the four got back into the car, with Eve driving once again.

As soon as they were in, Glenn leaned forward and asked, “What happened?”

Daryl filled them in on the way back and they put the car in a hidden spot nearby, making it look like it hasn’t moved in months before sneaking back in the same way they got out.

The whole ordeal took the better part of three hours, but it simultaneously felt like it had taken all night and no time at all.

As they made their way back to the cellblock through the dark grey tombs, they encountered Merle headed back to the cellblock.

When he saw them, without even asking, he gave Eve a status update, “We’re ready to roll.”

“Good work.” Eve nodded, not hiding that she was pleased with the news. She honestly expected it to take much longer than just a few hours.

Merle is surprisingly the type that works well under clear direction and positive reinforcement. Any kind of punishment or sternness is only met with a combative attitude but the lack of resistance from the method she’s found is staggering.

To be fair though, there aren’t many people who _don’t_ work better from receiving clear instruction and positive feedback.

The most arduous part of this whole frickin’ day has been waiting. It’s like catching a flight, all this ‘hurry up and wait’.

Waiting is exhausting. So, it’s no surprise that Eve was yawning before they even reached the cellblock.

Glenn practically made a beeline for the door when they were close enough to smell the delicious aroma of Carol’s cooking, and before the rest of them even got through the door, Glenn was sitting down with Maggie at one of the tables to eat.

Carol smiled, scooping up a few more plates of spaghetti. “I assume things went well?”

Daryl nodded, “Better than you’d expect.”

Carol raised a pleasantly surprised eyebrow. “Oh?”

“You wanna tell her?” Daryl turned back to Eve as she received her paper bowl of deliciousness with shiny hungry eyes.

“Andrea is safe and out of Woodbury.”

Carol almost dropped the bowl and thankfully Eve already had it in her hands. The same couldn’t be said for the plastic fork though and she looked horrified as it dropped to the ground before snatching it off the floor like it would melt, muttering, “Five second rule”.

“For real? How? I didn’t even know that was possible.” T-Dog asked, pretty much everyone in the room pausing their meal to listen carefully, meanwhile Eve shoved an impressive mouthful of pasta into her pie-hole right as he asked.

Thankfully, Glenn had her back and chuckled, an amused but proud smile on his red-tinged lips.

“Yeah, she snuck it past us. We didn’t even know until just now when Andrea radioed her.”

Tears of relief sprang to Carol’s eyes. “Where is she? Is she ok? I she—”

Eve put her hand up and swallowed her mouthful.

“She’s safe. It’s too dangerous to bring her back right now, so I’m putting Carol in charge of keeping in contact with her until we can.”

Eve paused eating and handed over her walkie to Carol.

“Check up on her every few hours, make sure she’s ok, but avoid talking about anything except her status, keep our moves under wraps.”

“And Woodbury’s, or she’ll want to join the fight.” Rick interjected, carefully feeding Judith her bottle.

Carol nodded, understanding. Despite trying to calm them, she was still moved to tears with the sudden surprise of Andrea being safe. When she left after coming to see them, Carol had been positive that that would be the last time she ever saw her. Now being told that Eve had somehow found the time through this whole mess to save her, she didn’t have words for how relieved she was and how grateful.

Eve was surprised attacked with a hug and barely managed to get her spaghetti out of the way before Carol wrapped her arms around her but true to her nature, Eve continued to eat over Carol’s shoulder even as she hugged her and polished off the bowl in a few minutes flat and gave Carol’s back a few pats, rubbing the back of her head in comfort.

The next morning, the sun rose bright and cold, despite it no longer being winter and all was relatively normal at the prison; quiet even.

Until gunshots broke out and Michonne bolted out of the cellblock into the courtyard like it was on fire.

Right behind her, a man with one hand and a man with a heavy python revolver chased after her.

“Stop!” Rick called after her, but she didn’t, running for the gate and in the next a gunshot rang out and a shout pierced the air, right before Merle tackled Michonne to the ground and pinned her.

Rick ran up as Merle harshly pulled her arms behind her and Michonne struggled incessantly, her sword a taunting few inches in front of her as her freedom was torn from her grasp.

Merle held her down with all his weight while Rick got a pair of prison cuffs on her wrists and the both of them dragged her to her feet and dragged her back inside, despite her violent struggles and unceasing shouts of, “Let go of me! He’s gonna kill you too even if you turn me over!”

A hidden scout on the outside of the prison fence lowered his binoculars and took his radio up to his lips.

Back in Woodbury, The Governor’s radio chimed and a gravelly brooding voice that screamed ‘disturb at your own risk’ muttered into the device, “What is it?”

“_Governor, you were right. It looks like they’re taking the deal._”

The scout relayed what he’d witnessed, and a dark smile overtook the Governor’s previously grim look.

After losing Andrea yesterday he was certain she’d head to the prison, but he drove up and down every path to it and didn’t find so much as a trace of her. Neither did his scouts report seeing anybody enter or exit the prison, she never even got close. It looks like she split altogether and left both Woodbury and her so-called friends.

The Governor raised the radio back to his mouth and said, “Good work.”

Andrea smiled at the Woodbury radio in her hand that she got from Milton right before she left and picked up the other radio in her lap.

_“They bought it.”_

Eve smiled and held down the talk button for Andrea to hear as she turned to the three performers and spoke while Michonne was rubbing her uncuffed wrists and shooting a glare at Merle.

“Good work everybody.”

The rest of the day was spent resting up, fine tuning, finishing their preparations, and making sure everyone knew their jobs.

The following day, two groups set off at the same time. Rick, Merle, and T-Dog in one vehicle going one direction, and Eve, Daryl, Glenn, and Michonne in the other heading in another.

Rick’s group was packing heavy artillery and the other was light and fast with silent weapons, backpacks, and a few cans of gasoline.

Rick’s group’s destination was the handoff with the Governor where they were set to go in guns blazing, with one golden rule for all three of them: Do not risk their lives. If it’s too hairy, pull back and retreat.

Getting to the three sniper positions that Eve gave them directions to wasn’t as difficult as imagined.

The Governor brought a lot of people with him but more people meant more walkers and even more appeared because of Merle’s brilliant idea of using another car with the cd player turned up to the max, rolling straight into the fray by the mere fact nothing was holding down the brake pedal.

Even as Merle tuck & rolled out of the driver’s seat and dashed across the narrow space to get to his position, the three of them went unnoticed because of it.

Once they were all in position, they all followed the plan and waited for the first shot from the Governor’s side before they started sniping people three at a time.

From the first shot fired and their own people started dropping, chaos erupted. Machine guns fired into the increasing stream of walkers while their own people were dropping from gunshots in their dashes to get to cover.

Unfortunately, the Governor was farther back and had good cover behind his truck, there were too many things in the way to get a clear shot at him, not that they didn’t try.

The Governor wasn’t their main objective, but you could say he was a bonus prize of sorts that everyone wanted. However, they couldn’t ignore the reason they’re even here to accomplish it, so pinning down the other side's forces took priority.

Meanwhile, as Eve’s team got close to the places, they scouted the previous night, their group split in half and she & Daryl went to one box truck and the other two to the other.

Eve and Michonne kept watch for the boys while Glenn & Daryl hotwired the two box trucks.

A couple minutes ticked by and as soon as the trucks started up, Eve & Michonne both grabbed a brick each from a destroyed wall nearby and hopped into the respective passenger seats of each truck before the trucks pulled out in opposite directions.

On top of the walls of Woodbury, the gunmen perked up on alert as a vehicle started approaching.

At first, they thought the Governor was coming back from the fight, only to panic a moment later when they realized the truck wasn’t slowing down.

Gunfire cracked like pop-rocks as bullets rained against the vans at each gate, and the tire on one burst and sent the van crashing into the street lamp and they watched as it swung out and flipped onto its side, sliding into the middle of the road smoking. The other crashed into a car right before the wall that hadn’t been removed because there was no gate on the East side of Woodbury, and it was out of the way.

The air was tense in both locations, cold sweat dripping down foreheads and hair rising on the backs of people’s necks as they waited with baited breath, their guns aimed at the trucks in anticipation of someone trying to climb out or something else happening.

After a few minutes, someone took a few experimental shots at the van that had fallen on its side. The shots whizzed through the flimsy white side and through the windshield where the driver should have been, but nothing happened.

Unbeknownst to them, on the inside of said van, the bullets punctured the gas cans inside; effectively releasing gasoline planted in the back prior to sending the trucks off and made the trickle that was being let out of the can’s loose lids into a river rolling towards the — now fallen — metal barrels that held burning logs, and a moment later, both trucks at either wall went up into flames one after the other.

While panic broke out at one corner of Woodbury and all the alarms were sounded, drawing people from every corner, at the other side, the four met up at a previously agreed spot chosen by Michonne and they created a concealed hole in Woodbury’s defenses.

Not obvious enough for walkers to get through but enough to make a secret passage for people to use at their leisure if they know where to find it.

The three of them followed Michonne inside to one of Woodbury’s storehouses where a large chunk of the town’s supplies are kept, and Daryl kept watch at the door while the others filled their backpacks to the breaking point like robbers in a jewelry store with valuable supplies; some of which they didn’t need, but Woodbury definitely did, and the mere fact of depriving them of such things would weaken their position greatly.

Michonne and Daryl took the bags back, grabbing a couple more things on the way out, while Eve & Glenn put their duo skills to the test just like they used to in the dangerous streets of Atlanta to go fulfill one final objective.

Not two minutes after they snuck out, Daryl heard one of Woodbury’s radios that he took from the storehouse crackle to life and an unfamiliar voice holding a strange mixture of both panic and relief exclaimed that the Governor’s party was on their way back, and Daryl and Michonne shared a look.

“If they ain’t back in 5 minutes, I’m goin’ after ‘em.”

Michonne nodded in agreement, having no intention to argue with Daryl.

Inside, Eve and Glenn snuck through the side streets, following the instructions Michonne gave them to memorize until they found what they were looking for.

Thankfully, Woodbury left their generators unguarded and only guarded things of more immediate importance like the walls, food storage, and the armory.

Thus, the generator for their makeshift hospital and Milton’s lab are unprotected.

It took them less than a minute to get in and with a bottle of corn syrup taken from the storehouse, squeezing the whole thing into the generator’s fuel tank took less time than listening to a song on the radio.

Even as Glenn was squeezing while Eve kept watch the generator made some concerning noises. As soon as he was finished the ruckus in the town seemed to kick up even more and the two of them made a run for it.

They almost made it back to the building with the passage when a distinct shout called, “_Over there!_”

Eve shot at the person, making them duck in cover but it was already too late, there were several people who came running at the shout and the two barely made it to the building before the shooting started.

They slammed the door behind them and grabbed a shelf, tipping it over in front of the door.

While Glenn ran to the passage and heard Daryl shout, “Come on, let’s go!” Eve ran to the opposite side and broke the window out before running to the passage and jumping out.

The moment she was clear and stumbled onto the ground from having jumped out, Daryl and Michonne sealed the metal behind her, making it appear as if it was still undamaged.

Inside, Woodbury’s people crashed into the room, forcing the door open and came in with machine guns, but they found an empty room and the broken window across from the door immediately caught their attention; completely overlooking the possibility of another exit.

“They got out through the window! Go! GO! GO!”

Daryl & Michonne passed Eve & Glenn their backpacks as they listened to the shouts inside and none of them could resist smiling as they made their getaway on foot, scot-free.

Finding a car one or two miles away and getting it running turned out to be the only hitch in the plan but eventually they found one and were able to drive back to the place they stashed the other car.

It’s convenient that there are cars with tanks of gasoline just sitting on the sides of the roads everywhere you go nowadays. It’s like a 1 in 3 chance around here to find a car that still works with enough gas in the tank to get you from A to B; provided you know how to hotwire a car.

They listened to Woodbury’s stolen radios the whole way, getting the play by play of disaster, even as it was radioed that the Governor was back, which meant they’re free and clear to head back along the faster roads.

Once they reached the place where they left the car they left the prison area in, they divided into two groups and took both cars back into range of the prison where they got back in contact with their people and found out that everything went as well as expected on Rick’s end.

In conclusion, everything went scarily according to plan, and Glenn couldn’t resist saying something.

“Your mind...is terrifying.”

Eve smiled and pressed the talk button on her walkie.

“Good work everyone. On to phase three.”

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!  
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	188. Chapter 188

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
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**I'm sorry guys, this was supposed to be so much longer but I had a really bad day today so this is all I've got.** **  
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**Also, I've changed the way my shoutouts work, so now I'll be doing a list of my patrons, and one shout out per Ko-Fi I get, kind of like "sponsers" for the nxt chp vs investors in me as an author.** ****

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As soon as they got back, there was no time to rest. Given how angry the Governor will be after today’s loss, they won’t be caught sleeping again. Eve wasn’t alone in her expectation that he will attack the _second_ he’s able to.

Attacking at dark was a possibility, so nobody was in much of a state to sleep and as the sun went down, casting darkness over the tension, many of them found themselves checking their weapons and packing up their stuff, doing anything to keep their hands and minds busy. Few were able to simply sit and wait out the night in anxious silence.

However, with so many of them doing things at a surprisingly efficient pace, only a couple hours had passed before everything had been packed up and all their defenses had been checked thrice over. There was nothing left to do _except _keep watch and wait.

The calm before the storm is undoubtedly the worst part of anything.

Even Eve found herself shuffling her hands and trying to pop her knuckles over and over, and Judith — being sensitive to the atmosphere — would not stop crying and was being passed around like a hot potato, clutching tightly to whoever had her and sending her pacifier sailing to the ground twice a minute.

Unexpectedly Eve left the room and came back, shuffling a pack of cards and several people perked up.

“Blackjack?” Daryl asked, already clearing his crossbow stuff off the table.

Eve shook her head and dropped the cards on the table before making a reeling gesture with her hand.

Daryl deadpanned. “I ain’t playin’ Go Fish.”

Eve sat next to him and put her hands together. _Oh, come on! Please?_

Glenn snorted in amusement and got up, sitting across from them. “I’ll play Go Fish.”

Carl jumped up and sat next to her. “Me too. I’ll play.”

Maggie followed suit and sat down with a grin.

“Looks like you’re outnumbered, Daryl.” Carol chuckled from the side, coming over to sit down on Daryl’s left.

“Ugh.” Daryl groaned, making the mistake of glancing at Eve before he sighed.

“Fine.”

Eve jumped in her seat like she’d sat on a thumbtack and passed the cards out faster than Lightning McQueen before he could change his mind, and accidentally threw a couple off the other side of the table into T-Dog’s lap as he came and sat down.

As night fell, people finally started falling asleep despite their previous nerves, and Eve zipped up her jacket, grabbing the goggles that had been in frequent use the last few days.

“You goin’ out?”

Eve turned around and Daryl stood calmly, not looking the least bit surprised, with his crossbow hung at his back. She wasn’t going to leave without telling him, but it seemed he already knew what she was gonna do.

Eve nodded and the two of them headed off towards the tombs.

As they were walking through the tunnels with a warm-toned flashlight leading the way, Daryl asked, “Wanna split up or stay together?”

“Stick together.” Eve answered.

As they reached the back exit, Daryl turned off the flashlight.

“I’ll follow your lead.”

Eve nodded and pulled the goggles down before opening the door.

The two of them slipped out the door like shadows, Daryl sticking to her closely as she guided him through the dark.

It wasn’t long before she spotted their first target. A man in his mid to late 40’s leaning against a tree, looking around every few minutes and looking mighty jumpy at every breeze that ruffled the leaves.

Eve slid her goggles off and pointed, moving to step behind Daryl. Daryl raised his crossbow as she put the goggles in front of his eyes, allowing him to see his target.

He took aim at the shadow he wouldn’t have been able to recognize as a person if he didn’t know the man was standing there, and with the grip of the trigger, a swift ‘_thunk_’ sounded and the gurgling sounds of blood filling a person’s throat spewed into the night.

One after another for the next half hour fell in silence, either by blade or bolt and not one of them ever saw it coming. Not even when they heard something and investigated, only to have their throat slit from behind or to have their last sight be the smallest glint of moonlight on a blade in the stillness of the dark. Not even the sound of cicadas to accompany them down until not a soul remained.

Eve and Daryl scanned the woods three to four times before concluding there were no more spies left, and they went back to each kill, searching the bodies and picking their pockets for anything useful but all they found were radios; which would have been invaluable if they didn’t already have one, courtesy of Andrea.

However, they still took them. They could never have too many enemy radios, and besides. If anyone should try to check in with these guys, it’ll be easy to fake their voices. Radios aren’t exactly as crisp as a cell phone when it comes to a person’s voice.

For the rest of the night, Eve and Daryl took watch from Maggie & Glenn to wait for an attack, and so the long wait began.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!
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	189. Chapter 189

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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Eve glanced at the watch on her wrist, staring at it tick as the minutes went by one after another; the silence filled only with the morning lights of a cold dawn nipping at her warm skin and the sounds of voices through her walkie talkie interspersing the static sound of one of their many stolen radios.

Her fingers found a tiny riveted knob on the side and turned it slowly, winding the watch, just how she used to watch Dale doing. It seems you’re never more aware of time than when you’re waiting.

She sighed and turned her eyes from the time peace to the yard from the tower above; looking down with watchful eyes as the group worked together. A handful of them drove the cars out one by one and led away most of the walkers filling the field like dogs chasing treats. Quickly followed by more of them reopening the gate and rushing the field to deal with the rest and protect the others while they dragged hand-made tire spike boards — built from nothing but old wooden boards, nails, and some barbed wire fence painstakingly taken from the top of the fences in the inner yards, where it wasn’t needed anymore — and various other traps into the yard to prevent their opposition from driving trucks straight into the heart of their home.

While she listened to Woodbury’s radio she couldn’t help pitying the people of Woodbury; still using their compromised radio channels unaware — despite having every opportunity to realize — that the prison has gotten a hold of them, and has several in their possession.

The range of these things is incredible. Much better than the prison’s own walkies which were just found in the local area, unlike these military grade radios. She’s a little envious.

The man beside her shifted, sniffling the cold air and the crossbow in his hands softly clunked as he shifted it around, repeatedly moving the scope back and forth over the tree line.

Eve’s not technically on watch and neither was Daryl. The others were very insistent this morning after the two of them only slept for a few hours that the two of them leave the heavier workload to those who got more than 4 hours of sleep; so they swapped jobs with Tiny and T-Dog for the morning.

She was fine with that. Eve wanted to stay with Daryl a little longer anyway, and it’s easy enough to coordinate from the tower using the walkie talkie. Better, to be honest. She’s got a bird’s eye view of the whole place, and as she watched the traps being built and the yard filling with things, it really started to feel like a tower defense game.

Speaking of which — she stole a glance at her wrist — they should vacate the tower soon.

After what happened before with Woodbury’s sniper making it into the other watchtower without them even noticing until he was shooting up the yard, Eve declared that the towers aren’t secure enough to use for the assault.

Plus, they’re kind of obvious targets when you think about it.

With the potential for a 50 caliber, military grade machine gun rolling up on their doorstep, it’d be stupid to use these.

Artillery like that can turn concrete into Swiss cheese at 50 yards. So, you can bet your Granny’s chicken pot pie that they won’t be here to receive it.

A few minutes went by and everyone went back inside, except for Eve and Daryl who descended the tower and went inside, only to come back out with two rifles.

Rick, Glenn, Maggie, and Merle followed them out to the gate and Maggie passed both some gut-covered blankets, made fresh that morning.

“Watch yourselves out there.” Rick set his hand on Eve’s shoulder.

He isn’t completely comfortable with this plan, it’s risky, but if anyone can pull it off its these two, and this could be their last chance.

The pair nodded and Daryl replied in a gruff voice, “You too. Don’t take any more chances than you gotta.”

Rick nodded.

“Hey, if all goes well, after today, this’ll all be over.” Glenn smiled and Eve’s heart lightened. It’s been a long time since she’s seen that smile. The one that’s warm like sunlight, shining with optimism and makes her want to ruffle his hair and tease him because it reminds her of the pizza boy she once knew.

Eve smiled and patted his shoulder before she and Daryl nodded and set off, letting the others shut the gate behind them and return inside as the two of them put on their respective walker-repelling cloaks and followed the path down, moving slowly.

Walkers slowly shambled towards them, sniffing the air as they began to fill the yard once again through the destroyed gate, some tripping over the traps meant for cars and crawling through the dead dry grass for a few feet before staggering their way back to their feet. It’s funny how some of them are capable of understanding their body’s position and are more in touch with their motor skills than others, but as curious as it was, Eve paid it no more than a few thoughts, following Daryl outside the gate.

The pair of hunters moved slowly until they neared the tree line and split towards either side of the dirt and gravel road, hiking off of it until the dying underbrush and trees concealed them from the road; taking up their pre-discussed positions to get down on their stomachs, set up their rifles and lay their dead-camouflaging cloaks over their backs to make sure the walkers passed them by and didn’t reveal their locations.

Eve clutched the walkie talkie in her hand, the radio lying beside her with a barely salvaged earbud cord from Beth attached to her ear as they hunkered down to wait in the shadows.

The moment the walkie talkie on Rick’s waist made the slightest noise, a stampede of footsteps erupted the silence like a reenactment of Pompeii and the entire group ran like a live grenade had skidded into the center of the room.

People were throwing things at each other from impressive distances, — ammo clips, armor, guns, bags — over the tops of heads and around bodies and some pausing only to suit up before running out of the room in all different directions, going for every exit like a nest of startled rats, but the majority funneled into two distinct groups: Those who fled towards the tombs with bags and car keys, and other gear that wasn’t already loaded up the night before; and those who were going to be part of the assault, strapping on riot gear and other armaments, grabbing guns and clips and other weapons or gear, and booking it to their scattered hiding places in small teams to different parts of the prison.

Both groups shared one thing in common though, they all weaved through their mazes of traps and corridors, jumping over tripwires and calling out to each other to watch certain traps just in case anyone had forgotten, especially the more concealed and sensitive arrangements; those supporting Randall and helping Hershel were naturally slower and more likely to accidentally trip something, so the calls were much appreciated.

It was like Home Alone in here and soon, a dark door at the back of the prison popped out survivors like a BB gun, sending them in a straight continuous line into the forest, like ants from a flushed nest.

By the time they reached the cars hidden in the woods, gunfire could be heard cracking through the air.

Eve ducked down as gravel flew from the road, the trucks speeding past straight into the yard.

A guard tower exploded as Martinez used a grenade launcher and Eve’s eardrums pounded as the foretold 50 caliber gun began battering the prison walls like a cannon.

Another tower exploded before Eve heard the loud pops of tires though it paled in comparison to the gunfire around it.

She ducked down as people started getting off the trucks and the quieter the sounds became, the more she dared to raise her head again and watch them from underneath her rotted blanket as they went up to the gates and finally she had to look through the scope of her rifle to see them go inside, but the entire time, her view of the Governor was blocked by those who moved behind him. She wouldn’t have been able to take a shot even if she’d seen him.

Eve glanced over at Daryl and feeling her gaze, he looked over and shook his head. He didn’t get a shot either.

Eve’s breath fanned the side of the rifle, fogging part of the black metal. _I guess we’re waiting then._

* * *

**Special thanks to everyone who supports me!**

**Patrons**

Xhak

Jessica Taylor

Tessasgoat

Jupiter /Enis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/


	190. Chapter 190

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sneak-iversary! This marks 4 (or 6; if you count the time before I was publishing it) years since Sneaky began.
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/

The Governor’s forces pushed inside the complex, following their group leaders and fanned out when a hand signal was given, most of them just following those in front of them into the dim gray concrete box these unfriendly neighbors call home, but it didn’t matter how far inside they went, they didn’t find anything.

The cellblock was completely empty, like it’s inhabitants had cleared out hours ago, and many of them started to think they scared them off; they probably left in the middle of the night.

With the way they’ve been coming at them the last few days, nobody could blame them for running away, in fact most of them assumed that was the Governor’s intention; Better to scare them off than to kill people. Only a few here knew he had no such intentions and those few were watching the man closely enough to know that he wasn’t happy about finding an empty nest.

As the tall grim man wandered through the cell block, he himself was beginning to think they really fled, until he came upon a cell.

Dull clicks against the concrete came to a halt and then echoed again as he took slow steps into the cramped cell, towards the steel table with a single familiar book sitting open in the center; as if deliberate.

A ruthless cold spread through his face, extending all the way through his body right down to the fingertips, his pupil shrinking as he stared at book.

The tenseness of his rigid ramrod back could be seen by the naked eye, like living ice, as he lifted the book from the table.

His eye fixated like a predator on a single highlighted scripture of the worn bible and slowly dragged across the words on the page.

‘_And shall come forth; they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation._’

The Governor all but threw the book into the corner, his face twisted into an ugly snarl as he turned his back to the door.

A tremble of amalgamated anger and unease slithered under his skin like a parasite as he wiped the sweat from his throat with the back of his hand before turning around.

One piercing eye threw a dagger-like gaze at his second in command outside the cell, startling Martinez into nearly taking a step back.

He’s seen The Governor do a lot of things — downright psychopathic stuff — it didn’t take much imagination to figure out what might have happened if he’d let slip his wariness of the man.

Thankfully, he was distracted by whatever he’d just read, but Martinez has never seen him so openly furious before.

Not even when the hand-off/ambush the other day was reversed back on them, and not only did they not manage to kill anyone, they even lost a few people and were forced to retreat.

It seems they have greatly underestimated the people of the prison and The Governor wasn’t handling it well. Who could blame him? Even Martinez felt like these people were running circles around them, but he’s had the weirdest feeling about it.

He didn’t think this Rick guy was that smart — none of them really struck him as that smart.

Someone who could outsmart — even trick — the Governor wouldn’t be easy to overlook, and yet The Governor has been made a fool of almost every clash they’ve had with these people.

Judging from their scout’s reports none of these people should be that capable….

The more Martinez thought about it, the more confused he became, until he remembered that woman. The quiet one.

She didn’t stick out much, like a shadow at the archer’s back. The only thing he really noticed about her was that her eyes were particularly bright.

He had dismissed her as just more backup at first, but during the negotiation, Martinez distinctly remembered her being there one minute and out of sight the next. He only noticed she was _gone_-gone when they heard the bangs and growls and went to deal with it.

He’s seen a lot of people who got good with guns since the apocalypse, but that display of pure flawless skill they walked up on. Like something out of mortal combat.

It almost made him shiver just thinking back to it.

Learning how to use a gun is easy, all it takes is a little practice but learning how to use a _knife_ like _that_….

He’ll never forget that moment he realized she might be the most dangerous of them all; that he had completely overlooked her, and if that meeting had ended in a blood-bath, the prison would have been the ones to walk away.

They may be few in number, but these people have some terrifyingly skilled people in their ranks. No one with eyes could even debate that because of all the trouble they’ve caused Woodbury.

There’s less than 2 dozen of them against Woodbury’s whole town and yet they’ve made it in & out more than once without losing a single person — and anyone Woodbury managed to capture had escaped inside of a day.

The only time they even got close was when Merle caught them off guard and snagged three of them the first time.

They caught them _off guard_, and _still_ weren’t a match for them.

If there’s ever been an example of quality over quantity…

Martinez isn’t even sure about this assault today.

They’ve brought almost half of their people, most of their guns, and biggest trucks, and he was right to feel uneasy about it, because what have they found for it?

Not a soul in sight and not a clue where they’ve gone.

A cold sweat collected on his back and neck, rolling down the side of his face as he gripped his gun tighter.

It doesn’t feel right.

Are they supposed to believe they just give up like this after the fight they’ve been putting up?

Did they wait until they left Woodbury to attack the town again? Is that why they risked an invasion the other day? Were they just scouting?

Martinez’s head was so filled with questions that he followed the Governor on autopilot as he wandered back to that first room.

He almost missed it when the Governor’s beady eye settled on him and the person beside him and started whispering orders as if someone would overhear.

“Take a group and go that way. You take a group and follow me.”

Martinez nodded and pointed at people as he went back towards the cellblock, indicating them to come with him and took about half — maybe a third — of the group to the door at the back of the cell-block, while the other group followed the Governor into what they knew were the tombs; thanks to some people they accepted into Woodbury a few days ago who had wandered their way into the prison and were promptly chased out by Rick.

Two people walked in front of the Governor, guns raised as the large group crept into the enclosed unnerving tunnels, the dark made it hard to see but those near the middle took out flashlights and provided some light for those in front so they could keep their hands free.

They checked around the corners, in the cells, and doors along the way, slowly leading the group farther in and taking silent orders from their leader as if he were their king and they were his guards.

Even though their steps were lighter than a cat’s on grass, their sheer numbers made it impossible to move entirely quietly and unconsciously they began to space further apart, some slower than others, and the back began to lag a little; watching behind them but the longer they went without anything happening the higher anxieties ran and every second was like winding their nerves tighter and tighter until they were so taught that a rat squeaking might set off a barrage of bullets.

No one said anything but the exchanges of looks in the low light of their flashlights passed the tacit agreement that not even one of them had a good feeling about this. Something is wrong and they all knew it. It’s too quiet.

The moment the thought struck those in the front, the entire group froze from the front to the back, like a wave.

With no one moving, the far-off sound of metal creaking could be heard. It didn’t sound _too _far away but it was so quiet that even when standing perfectly still, the sound of their breaths almost overwhelmed it.

The sound of a door — or more likely a gate — opening and closing was followed by quick and quiet steps and the faintest sound of another door.

Those in front glanced at the Governor, waiting for orders and the corner of the man’s lip hooked up; concealed from his subordinates in the darkness.

Maybe they didn’t leave after all.

The Governor nodded at the two and they moved forward again, but because of the distraction, they overlooked the nearly invisible wire strung taught across the floor right around the corner.

Suddenly there was a loud ‘_bang’_ followed by a bright flash and screams pierced the air, echoing down the concrete corridors that were rapidly filling with smoke; lit like thunderclouds by white flashlights waving around as people began coughing and shouting, and then the alarms blared.

Panic, confusion, and chaos erupted in the stone corridor as people’s eardrums were assaulted by the deafening wales of the prison security system.

It blared through speakers that were nowhere near them, but its potency was no less diminished. The shock wave of sights and sounds was enough to disorient anyone and no matter how loud their team leaders shouted, nobody could hear a damn thing.

When the first person near the back ran for it, abandoning this foolish hunt to follow the tunnels back the way they came, it triggered a stampede.

Floods of people soon followed them, all running for the way out; out of dark cramped tunnels and overwhelming senses back into the light and open spaces and they didn’t stop there, immediately running for the doors and pouring out into the diffused sunlight.

* * *

**Special thanks to everyone who donates to me!**

Xhak

Jessica Taylor

Tessasgoat

Jupiter /Enis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/


	191. Chapter 191

In the mad scramble people also ran the wrong directions and there was the sound of sloshing as someone’s foot caught on another wire and a bucket of some putrid smelling oily liquid spilled across the floor and caused several people to fall and slide.

As if that wasn’t enough, that’s when the screeching growls and a stampede of a different nature came from down the hall like an omen of horror and it rapidly grew closer, causing several people who had yet to run like startled deer to raise their guns — if they weren’t already.

The previously disorganized group descended into further chaos but regained at least a little bit of structure as people nearest to the impending threat formed makeshift staggered ranks as they all shuffled backwards trying to get out while the corridor behind them was clogged by chaos; most of them simply following whoever was directly in front of them to get out.

The Governor found himself amidst pure disarray. Despite shouting for people to hold their ground, few of them did and he gave up on trying to get this herd to stay put, focusing instead on getting ahead of them to bring them back under control.

However, even somehow managing to follow the flow, the group had already made it out and were starting to pour out the door.

Merle slammed the door behind him, blocking the few walkers that had come after him after he opened the gate in the tombs, and went to the back of the room and pushed the dusty industrial switch. As the switch was flipped, a loud obnoxious alarm blared through the prison and the banging on the door ceased as the walkers lost interest in him in favor of all the excitement and noise in the tunnels.

Everyone hidden outside the building tensed as the alarms flared, getting their weapons ready and not a moment later, their walkie talkies beeped to life and Merle’s voice rang through, “_Get ready, they’re coming out!_”

Seconds after the alert, the prison door slammed open and people poured out from the building.

The hidden gunmen stepped out of their hiding places almost in sync and sporadically fired at the ground in front of the crowd, raining bullets all around them to effectively control where they went and funneled them towards the front yard.

Bullets pelted the concrete in front of the group causing everyone in the front to violently flinch and abruptly stop, some even falling over as the group sporadically ran without even thinking about where they were headed, their only drive was to get away from the bullets.

Glenn’s angry voice came through the beat between the fray of bullets as he shouted, “Get the Hell out of here!”

Even if it came to mind there was nowhere to take cover from the bullets, and no one had any time to consider the fact that no one had actually been hit despite them all being out in the open.

The corralling was so effective that even without wasting more ammunition the people followed those who had already been scared into running the direction they wanted them to.

Eve and Daryl peered through their scopes scanning the haphazard crowd for the one person they were looking for, but Eve grit her teeth in frustration because there were too many people and she couldn’t tell one from the other. They were simultaneously too close together — clumping up — and too fast to even catch a glimpse of who was who and of those who weren’t running like headless chickens, there was no sign of the Governor.

The side prison alarm finally shut off and another one blared to life near the back of the prison and if one had a bird’s eye view they could see walkers pouring out of the holes in the back of the prison, the sound drawing them out of the building through the same places they had wandered —or been led— in through.

The people from Woodbury all ran for the cars at the bottom of the walker-infested front yard, seeing as it was the only path that wasn’t cut off by bullets but it was at that moment Eve knew it wasn’t gonna work.

The plan to take out the Governor in this chaos was a good idea but, none of them can take him out like this without killing more people from Woodbury than they could get away with.

There’s too much commotion, too many people running like rats, and too many heads — be it human or walker — in the way. They’d never hit their target.

Yes, they knew some would die but Eve could not in good conscience bring herself to slaughter an entire population of mostly innocent people and she wasn’t alone. No one was crazy about the idea, but they would do it if they had to, and that’s exactly why Eve wasn’t gonna let it happen. Even if it drags this fight out, she isn’t willing to let her friends carry the weight of something like that on their souls.

Some people have to die but the order she gave was to kill as few as possible while intimidating them enough that so long as they succeed in killing the Governor and his higher lieutenants, they won’t have the leadership or spirit to retaliate.

If they’re determined to stay here, they only have two options: End this here and now with as little bloodshed as they can manage to push for a truce; or wipe out Woodbury entirely.

Eve lifted her head from the rifle scope, staring at the people fleeing.

If there’s even the slimmest chance to end this without becoming mass murderers, she _has _to take it. Even if it may be foolish, she still has to try before resorting to a bloodbath.

Otherwise she’s afraid she’ll learn from this experience and become someone who kills first and asks questions later.

It doesn’t matter how obvious it is that killing all of them would be the easiest way to end this conflict, that’s not the example she wants to lead with, nor the ghosts she wants to live with for the rest of her life.

They’re not soldiers, they’re not even killers, they’re survivors. And that’s how it’s got to stay if they want to be able to live this life.

So, when they were all running for the cars, Eve grabbed the walkie talkie and all the receiving walkies bleeped and all gunfire stopped before her grainy clear voice rang through.

“_Stand down. Plan C._”

* * *

Andrea finally rendezvoused with the group who were sent out of the prison to a secondary location for safety and ran straight to Carol for a hug.

She looked around the faces who weren’t taking part in the fight, Hershel, Judith, Beth, Randall, Tiny, Carl, Axel, etc and it finally felt like she could breathe again.

Being apart from them has been harder than she thought. She missed them all so much and their previous stressful and hostile reunion was not satisfying in the least. But this. _This_ felt like she was home. She finally made it back where she belongs.

There was just enough time for hugs and reuniting before they heard rapid rustling and a boy came running through the woods — from the direction of the prison — and Carl pulled his gun on him in the blink of an eye; followed by everyone else present who had a gun.

“Wait wait wait!”

Andrea was quick to stop the near shoot off. “It’s ok, I know him.”

Andrea vouched for the kid, but the others didn’t lower their guns.

Andrea spoke calmly, motioning at the boy. “Put your gun down, Luca.”

Randall shared a look with Carl before nodding.

Luca wholeheartedly willing to hand the gun over but Randall stopped him quickly and said, “Put it on the ground. Nice and easy.”

Randall speaking unintentionally put Carl more at ease as the kid nodded vigorously, “Sure” cooperating as he slowly put the shotgun on the ground.

When the gun was down, Andrea picked it up and Hershel shuffled up and was eager to ask the question that’s been on all their minds.

“What happened at the prison?”

Luca filled them in on everything he knew but it was confusing, and it was apparent that at the very least, the strategy to disorientate and confuse was a complete and utter success.

He couldn’t be more than 16 or 17, just a few years older than Carl, and he knew Andrea. Not very closely but Andrea had been a prominent figure in Woodbury despite not having been there for long.

So, they accepted the kids surrender and Luca didn’t put up a fight in the slightest. He really didn’t want to die here today.

* * *

Back at the field, Eve and Daryl exchanged nods as the cars began to take off past them. The second they passed them, the two of them ran out of the underbrush, ditching their disguises and booked it for the prison.

Glenn and Maggie already had Daryl’s bike ready to go at the gate by the time they got there so all Daryl had to do was toss his rifle to Glenn and the pair hopped on without delay.

“Go, we’re right behind you!” Glenn shouted as the two of them sped off after the Governor’s forces.

A one minute lead may not seem like much but when the cars are flooring it, they had already put quite a distance between them while Eve & Daryl raced to catch up, the others still regrouping back at the prison before they’ll follow after them to finish this.

Eve tapped Daryl’s shoulder, and got close to his ear. “Don’t get too close. Head for the street right next to Woodbury, we’ll sneak in from the back and camp out on one of their rooftops inside the town until we see him.”

Daryl nodded but a second later Eve’s head slammed into his as the bike jerked suddenly. Daryl abruptly pulling the breaks almost made him shoulder-check her in the throat.

Eve didn’t have time to think about it though because the bike had already lurched to a stop and gunfire pierced the air.

Both of them stared down the road where all of the cars that just hightailed it from the prison were sitting still down the road, all of the people who had escaped lying in the field, with the Governor standing at the edge of the road, dropping a machine gun.

Martinez backed up against the truck, watching the Governor drop the machine gun and walk like he was in a daze towards the bodies, pulling out his handgun to start shooting heads.

He knew the Governor was psychotic, but this is— he just killed everybody. Over what? Refusing to go back and fight a losing battle?

Cold sweat dripped down the side of his face as he looked at the only other person the Governor hasn’t shot. They shared a look and a tacit agreement to get the Hell out of here passed between them before a loud gunshot split the air like a firecracker.

Both men whirled back towards the field just in time to see the hole clean through the Governor’s other eye before his body hit the ground.

“……”

The Governor.... is dead.

It took a long moment to process and even still, Martinez could scarcely believe it. A man who seemed like such a scourge...gone, the second he turned his eyes away.

Another gunshot cracked and the tire right beside Martinez’s leg burst with a loud enough ‘_pop_’ to make both jump.

The radio on Martinez’s waist made a noise before a smooth calm and unfamiliar rang through, clear as a bell.

“_Toss your guns into the grass and don’t move._”

* * *

**Special thanks to everyone who donates to me!**

**My Patrons**

Xhak

Jessica Taylor

Tessasgoat

Jupiter /Enis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/


	192. Chapter 192

Eve lifted her head from the rifle scope, the grass tickling a small part of her stomach where the rim of her shirt had snagged and pulled up, as she had gotten to the ground in a hurry.

She would have laid on the road if she could get a shot from there but even at a glance you could tell the cars were in the way.

She waited a beat to make sure they would stay put before her palms planted in the dying grass and pushed herself up from her stomach before sidestepping to let Daryl take her place with the rifle.

With no idea where the shot came from and the Governor’s truck cut off as a method of escape, the two men had no choice but to comply.

When they showed no sign of disobeying, Daryl grumbled an affirming noise to Eve and she nodded before going for a little stroll along the road~ One hand holding the radio, the other resting on the hilt of her knife.

Why?

That’s the question that plagued her as Eve walked the road, approaching the field of bodies from an angle that the trucks were blocking her from the two survivors’ sight.

They couldn’t have been stopped for more than a minute before she and Daryl caught up to them, and yet they arrived at a scene of pure carnage. A leader gunning down his own people and there was no reason that she could fathom for it.

What on earth happened?

It’s not like every single one of them were bitten or scratched in the tombs and inexplicably got away; or [other reasonable reason].

It didn’t make sense. The Governor’s dead so she’s confident that even if it had been some kind of trick, it failed completely. But this…. This isn’t even. The more she thought about it, she had no idea what to make of this — what she’s _supposed _to think.

The only explanation she can come up with is that he was nuts and she has a feeling that that’s not far off the mark, if not a dead-on bullseye.

The Governor’s dead, so they could have let Martinez and his other lieutenant go but Eve’s not that forgiving, and this scene is unsettling no matter how you look at it. She wants answers.

Even if it’s just to relieve some latent paranoia.

When she walked around the car, the two of them were pissin’ their pants because she was so calm. Calm as the gentle chilly breeze drifted past. Her steps didn’t make so much as a click on the surface of the road, and for a moment it almost seemed like she wasn’t real. Like they had been scared silly and had started hallucinating; they watched her with wary eyes.

She came to a quiet stop in front of them. Just far enough to send goosebumps raising all over their skin. Not too close but not too far.

Her presence was… imposing. Her relaxed expression looked like it was carved from stone; impossible to read but her eyes carried enough pressure to turn carbon into diamonds.

She obviously has help if she’s daring enough to _stroll_ up to them without a care.

But for some reason — even knowing there’s a rifleman out there with them in their cross-hairs, and no gun to be seen on this lady — it felt like the bigger threat was standing in front of them.

Bright amber eyes burned cold as she stared at them and inexplicably made them feel like employees facing their boss’s boss after their boss made a royal mistake. All the hair on their bodies stood on end and only bent with the minuscule drops of cold sweat that began to collect on their skin.

Whether intentional or not, Eve made them sweat for a long minute before finally, one word dropped in their ears.

“Why.”

It was just one word, but the meaning was clear: _Why kill your own_.

Martinez hesitated but she waited patiently until he decided not to lie. It wasn’t because there was a greater chance of getting killed for it but also because he didn’t see a point.

“There was an argument. People didn’t want to fight anymore and he just…. lost it. Started shooting everyone.”

Eve figured as much.

As soon as Martinez finished speaking Eve’s eyes turned to the field, alert but she didn’t look surprised as one of the bodies moved and a woman pushed a fresh corpse off of herself and slowly stood up with her hands raised.

Daryl saw the surprise on Martinez and the other man’s faces as the woman stood up in the field; obviously alive.

It didn’t even occur to them that someone may have survived.

The woman was shocked that there wasn’t even a hint of surprise on her face but swallowed before speaking up in a shaky voice.

“It’s true. He fired on us after we refused to go back.”

Eve was quiet and Martinez couldn’t take it for long.

“What now?”

Not a moment after he spoke, the sound of engines came from the distance behind Eve and since Daryl didn’t alert her, she knew it was the others.

Martinez and the other two watched as most of the rest of the prison group parked behind the empty vehicles and got out. Daryl came up behind them a minute later.

Martinez, Karen (the woman in the field), and even the quiet dude's eyes all widened when they saw a blonde woman with them.

Karen’s eyes widened.

“Andrea.”

They thought she was long gone or worse.

“Karen.” Andrea smiled, seeing the familiar woman.

Andrea came up beside Eve and after a beat of silence, Eve wasn’t sure what Andrea thought she was thinking but suddenly, the blonde started looking at her with a subtle sense of panic in her eye.

“Please. They’re good people.”

Eve glanced at her and the three from Woodbury immediately understood what Andrea was trying to do. She was speaking on their behalf.

“No one else has to die, the fight is over.” Andrea kept talking, trying to convince Eve to let them live.

Evelyn Rider is the most reasonable person Andrea's ever met and that's precisely why she didn’t dare to not be sincere in trying to convince her, because Eve is the kind of person who has to be convinced before she takes a stance but once she makes a decision, she sticks to it.

While Eve wasn't looking at her directly, she _was _listening.

Now that she’d figured out what Andrea was talking about, she listened.

Truthfully, Eve had a thought from the moment she started walking over here. Of what happens next.

And it seems she and Andrea are finally on the same page about something.

Eve looked at the three of them for a long moment before finally speaking. Her voice was calm like the surface of water but had a distinct resolution.

“It's not up to me.”

She turned to the group behind her.

Looking at her face, they all understood what she wanted to say, and no one needed her to say it out loud.

Rick stepped forward, with an indescribable look of trust on his face and set his hand on her shoulder.

“You're the leader. It's your call.”

Glenn stepped up too, even though he had been the angriest at Woodbury from the beginning to the end, he still meant every word as he said, “Whatever you decide, we're with you.”

Eve’s eyes finally settled on Daryl's and he stared back at her. He already knew what she wanted just from that look, but he asked anyway, for the sake of those not proficient in Eve speak.

“What do you wanna do?”

Her lips hooked up in a brief smile before she turned around meeting Martinez's eyes.

Martinez unconsciously straightened up and watched as she raised her hand.

“Truce?”

Martinez watched her for a moment but there was no sign of deception anywhere in her person, or those behind her, and finally took her hand with confidence.

“Deal.”

“From today forwards we're allies. Tomorrow at noon we'll meet in a neutral place to set terms.”

Martinez nodded in agreement, and for the first time in weeks everybody breathed a breath of fresh air.

Neither side fully trusted one another yet but Martinez was one of the few higher ups in Woodbury that they had minimal problems with.

After a short while of discussion it was decided that Andrea was gonna go back with them to explain everything to the folks at Woodbury and to help where she could before they make this truce official and tomorrow she will return with them to the prison.

Eve was a little wary of the idea at first but she trusts Andrea and she doesn’t think they would try to do anything to her, given how much time she spent at Woodbury up until very recently but that doesn’t mean Eve didn’t try to talk her out of it first. Only when Andrea proved she wasn’t gonna budge, did Eve give in. But she wasn’t going back there without another escape plan, so Eve took her aside and told Andrea where the hole at Woodbury was that they made and the blonde was stunned, eyes wide as saucers, hearing what they had managed to do right under Woodbury’s nose. Once Eve gave her a new plan and another emergency channel to contact her on should things go south, their discussion finally concluded.

Andrea looked at Eve with a pensive look and stuck her tongue into her cheek. “You know…. You’re a lot smarter than you let on.”

Eve was still for a moment before a breathy chuckle escaped her. “Been hearing that a lot these days.”

“With good reason.” Andrea gave her a once over with an impressed look. She and Eve have never been close, but she always had a feeling that there were things about her none of them had ever seen. Andrea unintentionally glanced at Daryl and vaguely wondered if even he saw this in her.

From what Andrea remembers, Eve and Daryl were both loners and it seemed to happen overnight when they started sticking to each other.

Maybe he’s known all this time.

Both groups went their separate ways as night quickly descended and Eve checked up with Andrea as she climbed the guard tower with Daryl. She was relieved to hear back that everything was all good and they were just about to talk to all of Woodbury.

Andrea promised to check up again in the morning and signed off as Eve sat down next to Daryl while he clicked the flashlight off, plunging them into darkness.

Eve trusts Martinez considerably more than she’s trusted most enemies that she’s faced in her time but she’s still wary, and sensing her wariness, Daryl came with her tonight to be watchful and alert while the others finally get some peace. Just to make sure they don't get screwed over.

Their go bags are still packed just in case, but they can start to rest easy now.

Eve set Woodbury's radio next to them as she leaned against Daryl’s side. They still haven’t changed the channel they’re using; still unaware of how the prison countered all their attacks so well.

It made Eve crack a little smile in the dark.

She won’t say this in front of _anyone _else but…

“I can’t believe that actually worked.”

“I didn’t doubt ya for a second.”

Eve looked at Daryl who was already staring back.

“You should have more faith in yourself.”

Eve’s lip quirked. “You seem to have enough faith in me for the both of us. Why?”

Daryl scoffed and Eve flinched as he flicked her on the forehead.

“Are you really asking that?”

Eve rubbed her forehead with a childish pout that somehow didn’t look out of place for her.

“There was only one time when you ever let me down.”

Hurt and a shadow of panic flashed through her eyes and Daryl smirked.

“But there ain’t no sinkholes around here so—”

Eve whacked his arm with enough force to almost push him over.

“You’re _never _gonna let that go, are you?”

“Depends. Unless you do something even more ridiculous, then _no._”

Eve whacked him again and this time Daryl snorted.

The light mood sunk into pleasant silence and the knot Eve’s had in her chest since they discovered Woodbury _finally _began to ease; melting like it was never there.

She laid her head on Daryl’s shoulder as a wave of exhaustion crashed over her and Daryl smiled softly, watching her knock out like a light.

He kissed the top of her head, muttering gently, “Get some sleep, Sunshine. You earned it.”

* * *

The next day, Eve was surprised to find Andrea, Martinez, and Karen at the agreed upon location to meet them _alone, _and they told her something she never expected to hear.

The last survivors of Woodbury talked about it all night.

They lost almost everyone who could defend them in this fight, all that's left of them are the young, the old, the sick, and a handful of people who had only recently joined them.

They don't have the ability to go on like this for long.

So.... Andrea stepped up and asked, “How would you feel about letting Woodbury join us at the prison?”

“You want to merge our groups?” Glenn asked for clarification and Andrea nodded.

“Yes.”

Martinez could see how skeptical the others looked but once again Eve was calm and seemed to be thinking about it seriously, so he stepped up.

“I'm good at taking orders but I'm no leader. Not like you. I've seen the way you guys operate. You're good but there's not enough of you to face off against another group like this again, and we wouldn't survive if we got attacked again after this.”

“There's people coming and going through this area all the time. They mostly left us alone because we had the numbers, the guns, and the walls, but as we are now neither of us will survive if one of those groups decides we're easy pickings. We'd all have a better chance of survival as one group. If you're willing.”

Eve looked pensive.

Taking in so many... theoretically it's possible. They have the space — they could make a little more even but sustaining that many people.... and a group who they recently clashed with where some might be holding grudges even if Martinez says that the whole of Woodbury unanimously agreed last night...

Eve looked to Rick, Daryl, Hershel, and Glenn; the five of them having mental discussions before Eve turned back and said, “Let's talk about it inside.”

With a thread of hope to grasp onto, the large group of people accompanied Eve inside the building and what was originally supposed to be setting the terms of their alliance, quickly became a talk of logistics about moving so many people and figuring out where to put them, what to do, what supplies Woodbury had and Eve's little notebooks quickly began to fill as she spent most of the meeting listening while the others discussed the various points they all brought up. Like a lord and her heralds.

* * *

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	193. Chapter 193

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here. It feels surreal.
> 
> The final chapter of Sneaky. My first story.

The discussions ran for a long time but in the end agreements were reached on everything they needed to do to get the ball rolling and it was decided that Eve, Daryl, and Merle would go back to Woodbury with the three of them and start coordinating on their end — as well as to introduce themselves to the people who were going to join them; while Rick and the rest would go back to the prison to start organizing there, and naturally to inform their respective groups of their agreement to merge.

On the way to Woodbury Eve had half a mind that it may be a trap but the fact their entire force was dead, and Andrea had been with them yesterday, was enough to make her relax.

This wasn’t the exact outcome she had hoped for, but it was near enough to one she had anticipated. She just didn’t think it would be the one to happen but as they approached the Woodbury gates which had only one older man guarding — waiting for them to come back, it settled in.

She was still wary but even her most paranoid thoughts were assuaged.

If nothing else, she trusts her own eyes. They aren’t lying about not having the force to resist even the few at the prison anymore. Everyone who was capable of fighting went with the Governor that morning and were now lying on the roadside halfway between. Cut down by their own leader, who was laying with them in the end.

Daryl sensed her wariness of Woodbury, but it was distinct from being nervous. They won that fight but he understood her skepticism. It’s not every day your enemy takes care of themselves, it feels too good to be true, but it happened.

As they arrived, introductions didn’t take long because the whole town was waiting for them.

The words ‘whole town’ sound impressive but the whole town at this point was merely handful of older people, kids, and just a few people who stayed behind to protect them who hadn’t been with Woodbury long and volunteered to stay.

Martinez was surprisingly cooperative and worked well with Daryl and Merle as they got started. It was a little easier because he had worked with Merle for a long time and the way Daryl operated wasn’t much different (except for being less of an a**), and the younger Dixon did a lot of interpreting for his girl.

Eve was disinclined to speak much to a group of strangers, but Daryl knew she would be, so he unconsciously did the talking for her right from the start. From introducing her with, “This is Eve, she don’t talk much.” and the person she spoke to most was Daryl and Martinez — simply because she had to.

The real surprise was that Martinez followed Eve’s quiet leadership _particularly _well.

He may have been on the enemy side of the conflict, but he was a natural team player. He didn’t do so well being the person in charge, but he excelled at being a right-hand man. Which is good because Merle is missing his.

Eve, Daryl, and Martinez’s thoughts were on a similar wavelength so the three of them got Woodbury sorted out in no time.

Eve and Daryl stayed in Woodbury for days while they organized things but most people in Woodbury were relocated to the Prison on the first day.

And following within a few short days, they wrangled up all of Woodbury’s supplies. One after, trucks arrived at the prison’s dinky but newly rebuilt gate, loaded with fresh supplies of every sort. Enough to last the large group for weeks, and by the time the trucks stopped coming, they had to park half of them in the yard’s grass, and Eve radioed Rick telling him they weren’t even finished yet.

The harder things to move were going to require some more time. Particularly Milton’s lab, and the infirmary Woodbury had.

Not only were they going to be harder to move, but they had to leave people to protect them while Eve and Daryl finally went back to the prison to find some places to clear out and repurpose for them to set up.

It took quite a bit of reorganizing and a few more hands, namely Glenn, Rick, Carol, and Hershel to create a new plan for the prison; getting it organized into an actual base with future plans to grow it and expand a little taken into account.

It almost felt like playing a video game; the kind where you build civilizations and cities, with just a sprinkle of a survival game.

It was many late nights for Eve but Daryl was right there with her, Martinez joining them half the time, and Daryl never let her stay up too late because she had picked up the awful habit of fixating on them until she had a solution.

Despite this, their morning hunt became a ritual of relaxation and on a good day, they would catch something early and stay out until dawn had faded completely. Just lying in the dewy grass, surrounded by the scent of fresh rain.

Eve usually took her jacket off so she could feel the grass and the coolness against her skin. Even though it was (probably) summer, they were still getting rain showers late at night and the two of them often laid awake in bed listening to the pitter-patter outside.

It was all worth it though because within a few months — maybe even just a few weeks (nobody was really keeping track) — Woodbury had merged with the prison entirely and the process was near seamless.

It helped that the entirety of who was left in Woodbury had been ordinary people, and a number of them were already affiliated with the prison in some way, including Tyreese & Sasha — a pair of brother and sister; the remaining two from the Carl saved in the tombs before they were chased out by a hallucinating Rick Grimes.

The remnants of people’s apprehension towards each other slowly began to drift away as Eve did well in coordinating some new teams to solve an approaching supply crisis that she, Carol, and T-Dog predicted on the horizon.

(Ironically after a late night craving Eve had for sponge cake of all things and T-Dog & Carol — who were on watch — were the ones to find her rifling through the kitchen area at near 3 am looking for cake mix. Cake mix wasn’t the same and she couldn’t make a cake with what they had, but she was _going _to find a way no matter what.)

Nothing creates bonds like teamwork, so many of the able bodies from Woodbury — including Tyreese and Sasha — quickly found their places within the group and even began to form close friendships from watching each other’s backs. More than a few couldn’t help but draw the parallel to Daryl & Eve because the developments started out almost the exact same way these two’s partnership did.

Andrea’s trust in the prison group as well as Woodbury’s trust in her went a long way in smoothing the transition but in the end, it was actually a late night _long_ talk between Eve and Hershel which led to the institution of the council that settled it once and for all, and it finally felt like the two sides had firmly joined into one.

The prison took a while to warm up to the new faces, but it turned out to be a breath of fresh air they didn’t know they needed. Meeting other people after so long felt a little weird but Carol and a handful of others were friendly enough that soon the conflict the late Governor started was nothing but water under the bridge and a memory that gave mixed feelings.

Martinez took up his position as a right hand well; bickering with Merle & Daryl almost daily like the three were brothers, and Eve came to find that Martinez was incredibly reliable on top of being a natural Eve speaker.

As far as leadership goes, Eve was a good deal more aloof than most expected. After having a charismatic ‘neighborhood nice-guy’ leader for so long, Woodbury’s people found it a little difficult to get used to, but she was a _good _leader.

It was reassuring to have someone so different in charge.

If she had been a smooth talker, most would not have been inclined to trust her, but Eve is the kind of person who inspires trust; not just in personality but her competence was difficult to overlook, so even if some had been wary, it didn’t last long.

Rebuilding the prison — starting at the rush job they did on the gates — and filling the holes took priority; especially because they had so many people now.

They wouldn’t be able to get out quickly if they were attacked or had a breach but just in case, while the council was coordinating some repair teams, Eve set to work on establishing escape routes and meet up points outside the prison in case of emergency, and once it was finalized they began to set up more safe zones in the area.

Everyone on base was required to memorize the emergency evacuation plans; they even did a few practice drills with the kids and anyone who was free to make sure it would work — and to help the kids memorize it and make sure they understood what they were supposed to do. As a nice bonus, it gave them something suitable to do to help the adults.

Among other things, the chain of command was something that seemed to tacitly fall into place.

Eve was the leader. The council helped her make decisions the way advisors would and organized how they did things, taking care of most of the logistics of how to get things done; they formed teams and squads for everything and assigned the most appropriate people to each, being careful to balance the team’s strength to weakness ratios so they didn’t have all their best people locked down on a certain team and leaving the rest to fall behind.

Daryl and Rick were naturally second in command, followed closely by Hershel, Glenn, T-Dog, and Maggie; and on the tail end was Michonne Merle, Martinez, and Sasha.

All these people and a few others were on the council, almost everyone from the original prison group were obviously trusted more and those like Hershel, Carol, and Andrea had a sort of...special standing. They were less involved in the larger operations and more involved in the day to day at the base, and it went without saying that _everyone_ on the council was pulled in for crisis events.

As the months dragged on, they improved many things in the base, and they got smarter in several ways.

Eve spent less and less time on the day to day operations of the group — turning them over to the council almost entirely — and spending more & more of it in what used to be the warden's office, which is now hers, coming up with more ideas and plans. The walls and floor were quickly plastered with good and bad ideas. Most were tested, some were implemented, and others were just spit balling at the future.

Daryl couldn’t have been happier that she had been kept at the prison through all of this. As much as he loves having his partner with him, and as weird as it felt without her around on runs, his heart needed to break from worrying about her. And he could get used to periodically finding her asleep on her desk.

She and Milton spent an entire month burning the midnight oil and frying their brains like fish over how to set up some actual functioning bathrooms inside the prison because their lavatory situation had always been bad and with the number of people in here it quickly became the top priority to deal with.

Sasha and Randall became their best shots and the two of them spent a lot of time on watch when Sasha wasn’t doing runs. They oversaw the guard schedule, perimeter checks and setting up shifts to clear the walkers from the improved fences. Each fence was lined with metal sheets that stopped just short of the average human adult’s shoulder so they could still kill the walkers and see over them but they provided some reinforcement and a degree of protection from outside weapons should they be attacked. They tested the metal sheets before putting them, using a few walkers and some (precious) ammunition to make sure they’d work but a few bullets were well worth the cost.

Thanks to Rick making regular visits to his friend Morgan, the man who had saved his life when he first woke up from his coma and who most recently saved their lives by providing those guns they used to fight the Governor, he finally managed to convince the man to come back with him. He was pretty hostile at first, he’d been alone for a long time, but he seemed to respect Eve and gravitated towards her ideas for traps outside the prison to combat too many walkers piling up against the fences and to make coming and going from the prison a little safer; being somewhat of an expert for walker traps (Rick could attest, given what the man managed to do to Rick’s entire hometown).

He spent a lot of time with Eve, Daryl, Glenn, and Martinez as the five of them figured out how to set up some of Morgan’s more effective and elaborate traps around the prison and they finally managed to make the waves of walkers that were stacking up against the fences, no longer an issue. So long as they stayed ahead of it.

But perhaps the first biggest decision the council made as a collective, was to take people in.

Drawing from their own experience and taking some sage advice from Woodbury’s surviving top guys (namely Martinez and Merle who had seen the worst of it), they weren’t going to be nice and let just anybody they came across in.

Now that they’re stable and working towards sustainability in terms of their basic needs, they recognized that there must be some big groups out there.

If Woodbury got to the size it was, and now they themselves are bigger and setting up a damn fortress (literally; Eve had started fiddling with some far-reaching ideas and drawing up plans for building layers of cinder block walls and looking at the land immediately around the base with some...architecture in mind), there had to be other groups out there who were doing both better and worse than them, if they could do it, it wasn’t _possible_ that other people weren’t as well.

They were a little smaller than Woodbury was in its prime, but what sparked this discussion of taking people in, was finding a small family of three who Daryl’s group brought back after bumping into them on a run and radioing back about what to do.

They took the family in because it was a father, mother, and their daughter who was about Carl’s age, but they couldn’t do that for just anyone. So, they made some rules.

They would not bring people directly back to the base, they would bring them to one of the safe zones/outposts they had just started getting set up, and a small group of people would come meet them, and the group was selected based on a number of things, but the one requirement was that they all had opinions that typically ran in different directions.

The group selected for the responsibility was: Rick, Daryl, T-Dog, Glenn, Maggie, Carol, Martinez, Merle, Sasha, Tyreese, and finally Eve herself.

The group would consist of as many of the selected people as possible, all of them if they could, but they knew they would rarely be able to spare more than a handful of them at any given time.

They would never tell the people they found that they had a big group or a base — they would only tell them that this spot (whichever safe zone they brought them to) was safe. They would never tell them who was in charge; Eve’s identity as the leader was guarded closely against outsiders and they were deliberately misled because people cannot be trusted to be honest or show their true colors under the presence of authority, especially under desperate circumstances.

And finally, there was a list of questions they needed to know about people before they would even consider letting them in. If they passed, they would bring them back and let them be astonished by their own luck for stumbling upon a functioning base that was basically a small tribe.

The ultimate decision of whether someone was allowed in, was left up to more than one person though. They had to have a majority agreement by the selected participants to let someone in, and if the answer was no, they would simply give the stranger a little bit of food and water that their “little group could bear to part with” and send them on their way none the wiser before returning home to their base.

Those who were taken in, were given further tests but more of the ‘get to know you as a person’ variety and two of the questions were, “What experience weighs heaviest on your conscience?” and “What is your biggest struggle?”

And it worked.

Sure, their system wasn’t perfect, but nothing is, and they weeded out quite a few rotten apples as they stumbled across people and saved the ones who could be saved.

Their method earned them a real doctor and an ex-army medic who had a drinking problem because he had been the only survivor for the last _two_ groups he’d been with, so instead of having him do runs like they were originally thinking, he was assigned to assist the doctor and only went on runs where they needed someone with the medical knowledge to get what they were after.

Honestly the hardest part of life inside the base was perhaps coming up with children’s cautionary stories about walkers and strangers after Carol told Eve & his father about one of the girl’s in camp who was getting the other kids to name the walkers outside the fence and treating them as if they weren’t dangerous, just misunderstood people.

It pained Eve to have to deal with children this way but even if someday the concept had merit, it was a dangerous idea to get stuck in their heads. People already had enough trouble killing walkers when they believed they were dead people.

It had completely blindsided them; they hadn’t even thought about the kids growing up in a world like this growing up skewed if they weren’t taught and monitored properly.

They had been looking after them like adults are supposed to, but they had neglected to teach them some things that had never applied before now. For example, survival skills. Eve had only just greenlit Carol to teach the kids basic survival skills and she had barred teaching anyone under the age 13 skills to kill because they were too young to fully understand and even if they’re growing up in a world where they _will_ need to kill someday … _children_ don’t need to be strong, they need to be _safe_.

When they were old enough, they would be taught how to protect themselves. Until then, they would be taught how to run, hide, basic survival skills, how to clean a wound, and other things about the world that they would have no way of knowing if not taught but had real-world effects & applications like science, physics, self-defense (as in, Eve was teaching people basic MMA to fend off an attacker or a walker if they needed to and were unarmed), the human body, animals, how to tell if food had gone bad, to be aware of germs & disease, and what to do if they encountered something they weren’t sure about or were separated from groups.

There was no shortage of things the kids could learn that would be far more valuable at this stage in their lives than how to kill.

Teaching a child how to kill… has some dangerous repercussions, and Eve would know. She was surrounded by desperation, growing up. She knows what it does to a child.

In the end Hershel and Eve both went to talk to the girl and Eve held a suspicion that the girl might be schizophrenic. She’s not a psychologist by any means but after spending some time with the girl, there was some damning evidence.

Unfortunately, they didn’t have any psychologists with them, the closest they had was someone who used to be a school counselor. The doctor had some experience prescribing medications for mental health and knew which medication she would need but her being a child and them not having someone qualified to make the diagnosis, it was too risky.

However, that didn’t mean they couldn’t get the medication just in case, antipsychotics and perhaps anti-tremors. They weren’t needed for many other things so there was a good chance they were among the few medicines that were still on most pharmacy shelves.

Together, the counselor and the doctor took up the responsibility to teach the girl about her possible condition and try to figure out what exactly she had. Schizophrenia was simply Eve’s best guess but there were a variety of other things it could be. One thing was for certain though, whatever was going on with her, they wished they were better equipped to help her.

Through the months many people speculated names for the base because they had all just been calling it ‘the base’ or ‘the prison’ but those going out on runs quickly realized that was a little on the nose and if anyone who overheard them who had a map it wouldn’t be difficult to find out where they were set up.

A lot of different things were tossed around until Glenn came up with The Atlanta base.

They were nowhere Atlanta anymore but it was somewhat fitting, not just for throwing people off who might overhear them, but also to help them remember where & and how far they’ve come, and to honor those from the original group they’ve lost.

Eve even took the time to improve her art abilities with the kids and sketch portraits of their old friends for the memorial they had long since set up.

She asked Carol but she didn’t want to remember Ed and frankly Eve was relieved for not having to sketch that wet towel’s mug, so Ed wasn’t included, and neither was the Governor. Nobody was keen to remember either of them.

Amy was there and other than the few who had known her personally, the people Andrea had grown close with also knew that the young woman was her sister, but the portrait that Eve spent the most time in front of was Sophia’s, and she placed a little gold necklace that she picked up from the woods in front of the portrait. She had meant to give it to the little girl when they found her, but Eve had forgotten she even had it after… She found it caught around a loose string in her backpack. It had been there all this time.

As time went on, they collected more people. Including a tank operator and his tank, plus a pair of sisters with a young girl who reminded Eve so much of Sophia it was almost heartbreaking.

The little blonde girl hadn’t spoken a word since the world ended but as soon as she found out that Eve didn’t talk much either, she became like a little duckling, trailing after her with her stuffed animal under her arm.

All the kids seemed to get along exceptionally well with Eve, and she’s one of the only adults who took the time to play with them. They often played games like soccer and basketball, tag, frisbee, even red-light green-light and Simon says.

When it started snowing it almost became tradition to have a giant snowball fight every time there was fresh powder; involving almost everyone at the base, from Daryl to Glenn & Maggie, to Rick & Michonne, T-Dog, Big Tiny, Sasha, Tyreese, Karen, Martinez, Hell even Merle was dragged in sometimes. They even made a giant snowman so big that they couldn’t move it even with 12+ adults and it was almost as tall as the fences that kept them safe. The kids treated it like a jungle gym for weeks and when the weather started to warm again, it was quite a nice source of easy water; they even went through the trouble of building a makeshift pool out of a hole in the ground downhill from it, and tarps to keep the water mostly pure.

Two years in, they took down the trees in a wide perimeter around the prison and put up more fences and cinder block walls, creating more space for their growing population.

They cleared the roads in specific patterns so that they can get around quickly but they’ll know if anybody else comes through because they would have to move things and likely would not close them back up once they had passed through, and there were watch points all over the area that kept track of people coming and going.

They lived in one place but much like Woodbury in its prime, they had the entire area covered and unlike Woodbury, it was all monitored carefully.

They had a few big groups blow through on occasion but unless they were desperate and on the verge of dying off, they didn’t approach those groups. They let them pass through and on occasion even forced them to by releasing a carefully contained section of walkers where herds liked to stack up and used them to nudge them along as well as determine a group’s threat level.

If they dealt with the walkers instead of moving on, that’s when they stationed strike teams to watch them carefully and the prison would be on lock down in those times, in case of a fight but whether by luck or careful planning, they had yet to have it escalate to a fight. And they even took in one big group; the tank operator’s group — which Martinez and his squad were tasked to make contact with because they were dying and didn’t even have the energy to flee the herd they had released to get them to move on.

The watch posts outside Atlanta base had rotating shifts of 2-3 days so they always knew what was going on around them.

They met some people who were trying to make their way to Washington DC; claiming that one of them, a man named Eugene, had important information that would help a lab up there which was still functioning, to manufacture a vaccine for the virus.

Needless to say, they were all very skeptical about the authenticity of this. But after some deliberation, Eve decided it was worth the risk.

They had plenty of supplies to be able to spare a little, and even on the slimmest chance that this was for real, it was worth helping them, because they _could_ and not many people left out there can afford to do that.

A few volunteers from the Atlanta base went with them, keeping in touch with satellite radios wherever they could as they went but they never could figure out why the signals weren’t the best and didn’t always work even though the satellites will still be in orbit long after all of them are dead and gone, but for reasons they had no means of figuring out, they couldn’t always keep in contact but the small group never even got close to DC — even with the amount of support this miraculous Atlanta base had given them.

When they were nearly there, they made contact with the lab and there was no one left. Someone who had wandered in looking for medicine, picked up the radio and told them the lab had fallen last winter, something about the heat and light from the building’s generators drew the dead like moths to a flame and it wasn’t until about a month ago that they started clearing out the area again.

Eve wasn’t too upset, she had extraordinarily little hope for something like a vaccine at this point, but others took the news much harder.

However, while the Washington group was mourning the loss of a mission that had been keeping some of them going, they met a guy on the road who had a settlement nearby.

A place just like the Atlanta base and offered to let them stay for a bit; except he failed to mention they were under the thumb of a group called ‘The Saviors’ until those pricks showed up on the doorstep and took what they owed for their “arrangement of protection”.

After much consideration and deliberation with the whole council and even a few of those outside of it, Eve and the council finally decided that if the people in this “Alexandria” wanted to take the risk and come join them, they would be willing to help them escape.

Eve didn’t make this decision lightly.

It carried a much greater risk than anything they had ever done, but the reason she considered it and eventually decided that it was worth it, was because these people had some _extremely _valuable skills that they were in desperate need of, and after losing their hope in Washington, if they didn’t have to reinvent the wheel on numerous things, it was worth the risk.

Their people were already up there anyway, they might as well get something out of it.

Eve came up with a plan and Daryl relayed it to the leader of the Washington group, Abraham, that they were sending some reinforcements and to wait for them in Alexandria. They were instructed not to make any moves until they got there. For a soldier having just lost the mission that had been keeping him going, Abraham was more than happy to take new orders from the highest authority he could find and as far as he was concerned, that meant the Atlanta base who helped them get this far.

Two weeks later, Evelyn Rider herself showed up with three of her right hand’s, Glenn, Maggie, and Rick, with several fast cars to ferry the people out of here to a couple of converted buses they had a good distance away.

They could have been here in a week, but Eve was a cautious person and wouldn’t dare to put the Atlanta base in jeopardy to help these people, even if they were worth helping.

They got here in a week but she refused to move until she knew what they were up against, so for seven whole days, they did nothing but stake out these “Saviors” and sneak around like shadows, watching them from the darkness, and the amount of information they obtained just from doing that was… startling.

That’s why after her recon, she not only called for the buses that the Atlanta base had been preparing while she was gone, but also called for the _tank_ to protect and escort the buses home. Seeing as how they’d affixed some plow-esc contraptions onto the front, the tank was not only capable of steaming rolling over the top of cars — as tanks do — but could now also push things out of the way and create a solid path like someone took an eraser to the road and just made a straight line to their destination, clearing a path without even stopping.

When they showed up, it was like the cavalry had arrived at this little untouched community fenced in by large walls of industrial sheet metal built by the leader’s husband who was an architect, keeping them safe.

She had Abraham and a few others find some semi-trucks that would be good for hauling. She stationed some lookouts & scouts that she had personally trained to keep an eye on their surroundings and monitor the Savior’s so they could work in secret, getting people out of the metal-fenced community and into the buses with the belongings they couldn’t bear to leave.

Then once everyone was gone and they’d loaded up the resources onto the trucks with armed guards and sent them all back with the tank and buses, her team smashed the place to bits; even driving cars through the walls and finally set it on fire.

It took a bit more elbow grease than they thought, but they made it look like the place had been raided and like these Savior’s had a much bigger problem to worry about than wondering where all these people went.

Eve even made a few last minute touches of spray-painting some meaningless symbol around the place to make it look like they were hit by an organized group that doesn’t exist and they got out of there just in time because all the giant plumes of smoke and noise drew a massive herd in — the biggest they had ever seen, and they managed to get out just in time.

With their fastest cars, they managed to catch up to the trucks in record time and the fast cars escorted the slow moving haulers behind the spearhead that was their tank all the way home, and they only stopped to have Abraham use the military truck to block the way behind them. Better not to leave a cleared path straight back home.

With that, it was like they were never there.

Once they got home, Eve dealt with their first internal altercation with one of the people they’d brought back being abusive to his wife and kids, and then let the council decide his fate while she put the rest of these people to work.

They had an architect and real builders now. Which meant their plans to expand the base just became possible, and just in time because with the addition of those from Alexandria, they were officially full up.

With the architect’s invaluable help, they were able to come up with more than just expansion plans but also some promising defenses that would work not just against walkers but anything with apposable thumbs too.

He and his wife Diana — who was a low-level politician/city official of some sort before the turn — joined the council as soon as Alexandria’s people made it back to the base.

The Atlanta base didn’t have any neighbors in the area, but Eve put Diana and Aaron (the man from Alexandria who had originally found Abraham’s group) in charge of diplomacy basically. In case they run into any other established groups. They seemed to have qualifications and a knack for it. And later, it would be one of the best decisions she’d ever made.

They’ve taken in a lot of people but all of them went through an extensive vetting process. As the group became too big to manage on a tacit chain of command, Abraham suggested a rank-based system just like the military had. Everyone was then given ranks and only people of a certain rank could enter certain sensitive areas, such as the armory and the labs (where Eugene, Milton, and other smarties were set up, making bullets, trying to figure out a way to set up renewable energy and solar panels to link up to the whole base, and creating better gear for the runners, one of them was even trying to figure out how to manufacture medicine but it would be a long time before they saw any success in that area).

The council area was also off limits to anyone but the council and the trusted guards outside it when they were talking because of an incident that caused panic to sweep through the base and blew a small but sensitive issue way out of proportion.

Inside the base it became necessary to mandate that only knives were allowed and only those on guard duty could carry guns. Entrances and exits were monitored carefully, and their walls were inspected carefully and regularly for damage, wear & tear, and it went unsaid but for sabotage as well.

But the most off-limits area in the entire base, was actually Eve’s office.

Daryl, Glenn, Rick, Herschel, and Carl were the only people allowed in there. Not because her office was particularly important but because they were the only ones who dared enter the cave of the beast, and usually it was to drag said beast out by her ankle for sunlight and food.

Eve became increasingly busy as the base expanded and they continued to run into problems because it was literally her job to solve them.

She promised Daryl a long time ago that she would stop leaving and _boy_ did she keep it. She barely had the time to leave the base anymore but she still left regularly because she would go stir crazy if she didn’t and after a little convincing, Daryl helped her divide up her work onto more shoulders who suited to handle them so she would have more free time.

Rick became a “cop” again and was grateful for it. It felt like he found his purpose again. He oversaw security at the base and collecting information from their scouts outside, keeping up with the concealed watch posts alongside Martinez and Merle, and he was damn good at it. He was often the first to know when they had a problem.

Merle never thought he’d be taking orders from Officer Friendly but he would have been a heaven-descended profit if he could have predicted all of this, and the mere _thought _of _Merle Dixon _being a profit, scared the living soul out of Eve.

As the years passed, the base grew and expanded many times. More and more people were collected but after a run in with a place called ‘Terminus’ after a few of their top people went to cautiously check it out, they were glad that they hadn’t been stupid enough to broadcast about Atlanta base over the radio.

They were right about big groups being out there, they contacted quite a few of them but never told a single one of them that their group was bigger than 25 or where they were set up.

Not one of those groups was doing half as well as theirs, and on occasion, they brought big groups into the fold because of it; After their bases were falling apart, either because of an attack or bleeding their resources dry, or no longer being able to go on by themselves.

Four years down the line, the Atlanta base got so big and sustained the people inside so well that the small handfuls of people who were brought in almost bi-weekly all were under the impression that a piece of the old world had actually managed to survive all this time. They never would have believed that this place was once only a handful of close-knit people.

It became a wide-spread joke that the Atlanta base had managed to raise up their own little fully functioning kingdom through the fiery ashes of a modern world.

They joked but they were right. It was exactly what they had done.

They weren’t the only ones who had managed to build something that resembled life as it used to be, but as far as they could tell, they were the biggest group on the whole Southern East coast.

They were literally building anti-walker skyscrapers whose sides were lined with watch/sniper posts and solar panels to house all these people without spreading out over an area too big for them to protect and monitor. Almost every rooftop in the place was filled with food-producing gardens and greenhouses.

Their biggest problems were the same problems that civilizations always had, but because of the ever-present outside threats, the internal structure of the Atlanta base remained far more stable than civilizations of history.

They dealt with many things over the years. Including disease, famine, death, sabotage, and another war but this one was much bigger — between them and the Saviors who had decided to expand a little too far south for their own good and were obliterated after poking a sleeping giant they didn’t realize was right underneath them.

Eve’s leadership was comparable to Marcus Aurelius of the Roman empire. A stoic leader with philosopher type thoughts and a mind for problems.

(Marcus Aurelius Antoninus was the Roman emperor from 161 to 180 and a Stoic philosopher. He was the last of the rulers known as the Five Good Emperors, and the last emperor of the Pax Romana, an age of relative peace and stability for the Roman Empire.)

Her job migrated from solving problems to creating and managing the groups of people who were most suited to solve those problems and then approving or sending back their solutions for more thought before organizing what they needed to implement them.

She was kept busy but had more free time than she had in the beginning and she spent every second of it with Daryl and her family.

She and Daryl spent almost every night on the rooftop of the central tower that had become the base’s main operations, staring at the sky — even going up to stare when she was stuck. It was the one place she could always be found. And she instigated a snowball fight _every _year, without fail, on the first snow of winter.

She still found time to play with the kids and wrestle with Carl who had grown up into a fine young man, taking care of his sister and she teased him _endlessly_ when she was the first to find out the kid had a girlfriend.

Judith was growing up smart as a whip and as brave as a little lion, and aunt Eve’s love of reading had rubbed off on her. She and Glenn & Maggie’s son were best friends but they both shared one thing in common: Aunt Eve and Uncle Daryl were their favorites.

They couldn’t keep the base a secret forever however, especially once they truly became physically noticeable and had made contact with enough groups and were sending enough of their run-parties out for supplies every day that the secret was out.

However, with how monstrous the size and might of their base was, it was suicide to try and attack them and nobody with any real idea of what was going on even dared.

Once they started trading with other large but incomparably smaller groups, they earned the affectionate nickname: The last civilization, and were known for being, _Sneaky_.

** _The End_ **

* * *

**DOn't panic!**

**There are still several extras I'll be publishing after this, and a few exciting announcements to come with them!**

I'd like to thank you all for following Sneaky all this way, for your amazing, funny, and witty comments, for your patience, for your encouragement and enthusiasm, and I hope with all my heart that you enjoyed it and aren't disappointed with the ending even though it is a much different narrative than the rest of the story.

If I could, I would've made it go on forever but all good things have their time and I'm eager to jump into my next project which I will tell you more about and explain a little more in the following extras. It will not be a fanfiction so it is unlikely that I will be posting it here on Ao3 but I haven't thought about it too deeply yet so we'll see. However everything I do will always be available on my website which you can find in the end notes below.

I have learned so much through the years of writing this story and it's kinda scary actually for it to finally be finished. I feel a little bit of a sense of loss, I went through so many things with this story, it's been a part of my life since I was 16 years old, but truly, no matter how hard it was at times, it was worth every moment.

Thank you so much for dedicating your time and attention to here, I hope to see you again for my next work.

Stay tuned for my Next Project: coming soon in 2021! Announcements will be made in the following 'extras' so be on the lookout.

**Special thanks to everyone who donates to me!**

**Patrons**

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Jessica Taylor

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sneaky 2014 - 2020
> 
> Not including extras or end notes:  
381,987 Words  
1,622 Pages
> 
> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a kudos, review, and bookmark so you don't miss anything!
> 
> If you like what you read, check out my website where I upload all my stories; originals, fanfictions, writing tips, updates on what I'm doing, and more!  
http://www.miimaas.com/  
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**Author's Note:**

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